Chasefield One-shots!
by jensening
Summary: A collection of unrelated (unless said otherwise) Chasefield/'Maximum Victory' one-shots! Last chapter: Max gets dominant sometimes; she knows Victoria enjoys risk. So she decides to be spontaneous. She'll later pretend she didn't know Taylor was due to come round, but they both know that's a lie. AKA the one where Victoria is fucked against her door and Taylor tries to come in.
1. The Beach

**#1: Beach** \- Max is always thinking of Victoria.

I was listening to Syd Matters' 'To All of You' when I just...started writing. And this was produced. Tell me what you think!

 **Seriously, read this:** This one-shot is completely different to my others, and purely descriptive. If that's not your thing then I'd skip to the next one, as the rest are all funny and have dialogue and what not.

* * *

It's a pull, a push, cold and steady, hot and relaxed. It's a constant, but never the same. It's the grains of sand beneath your feet that slip through the gaps in your toes and fall so perfectly, so seamlessly, so carelessly. It's the sound of the tide, the swoosh, the soft secrecy of a voice desperate to yell but content to struggle as it has been: pulling, pushing, never reaching your dry, sandy feet. It's the soft orange and blue, the pale hues of pink and yellow that you love to look at, but you cry because they are so far away, and you cannot touch them. It is a scene, a view that you have seen so much you are drowning in it, but one that you cannot help but gulp in until your lungs fill with water.

You've seen it so many times. You've heard the squarking of the seagulls, the hushing of the tides, felt the soft itching of the sand and tasted the salty air of the sea. You've seen the beauty in the sunrise, sunset, the daytime, the night time. You've seen this panoramic at its finest, and at its worst, littered and dirty and covered with debris and seaweed. But you love it. You love it, so you pick up the litter and throw it away, and you care for it the best way you can, the only way, and you nurture it like everyone should.

To many people it's just a beach, there's nothing special about it. To you it's a haven, a safe place, a beautiful place, a magical place. It's the yellow of the sand that reminds you of her hair, and the blue of the sea that reminds you of the deepest recesses of her soul; how endless and beautiful and, sometimes, scary she is, but how she shares it all with you with an openness you had to learn to accept, and one you try to return. It's the blending, melting colours of an endless sky that remind you of her, in all her perfection, so close and beautiful, but sometimes feeling untouchable. It's the soft sounds of the tide that remind you she is constant, and that your relationship has both: the push and the pull, the togetherness and the distance, but always she is there, with her soft, silky voice, reminding you that even though she may be distant for a while, she will always come back.

This beach, to you, is more than you can describe. It is her, it is perfect, and it is secret.

You look at her, and she smiles gently like she's afraid she'll say something wrong, so you just take her hand in yours and squeeze it so she knows to never let go. You take a deep breath, inhale the sweet scent of the fresh salty air, and take a step forward with her. You let your feet hit the tide.

It feels nice.


	2. Smitten

**#2 Smitten** \- Victoria thinks you don't catch her. But you do.

I was replaying episode one and I remember seeing this photo in Max's room, of her in a red jersey and kinda scruffy hair, looking so happy. I just remember looking at that photo and loving it so much, and I figured that Victoria would love it too. Thus, this one-shot. Enjoy! :)

* * *

Victoria thinks you don't see it, but you do. You see it, and hope you see it every time she does it, hope that you don't look as dorky as you feel when this large, crooked grin smears across your face as if by accident, but not quite.

You see it as she gets this small, reminiscent smile on her face and lifts a hand delicately up and strokes one of your pictures. It's a picture of you, when you were younger, with a large smile, scruffy hair, wearing a red jersey with a large white 'S' in the middle. You were happy because you were at a game with your dad. You remember it well.

You see it as she touches the picture so lightly, so delicately, that she almost hasn't even touched it. But she has. You know she has, because as she touches it that small smile turns up at the edges, and she looks so happy she could burst. You see her eyes, usually not so warm, fill with beauty and love, so content to just look at this photo of a younger you. Watching her look at your memories this way makes your heart swell and hurt until you think you may die, but then you keep going, your heart keeps pumping, and you feel as if you should cry at how delicate Victoria looks.

And then you look away, keep fiddling with your camera, acting as if you saw nothing. Because that's what Victoria wants; she would be awfully embarrassed if she had seen you watch her so. Victoria turns towards you then, face neutral but also managing the perfect balance of bitchy and sweet as she looks at you. It's how she always looks at you, except when she is at her most vulnerable, like she was just moments ago.

"Max," Victoria says. She's trying to manage her voice; put it somewhere between the prestigious 'I'm Victoria Chase' tone but also hitting the 'I'm too good to care' note that she fakes so well. "Can I take this photo?"

She holds the photo of you in the jersey in her hand, perched between two fingers. You could ask her why she wants it, but you don't need to. You know why she wants it. So you just shrug noncommittally and say "Sure, Tori." and watch discreetly as her lips curve into a smile, only slightly, only for a second, but she looks so happy in that second.

"Thanks, weirdo." She says, and you watch as she slips it into her purse, into the empty slot where her license should go, but now you are there. And then she sits next to you on your bed, leans back and closes her eyes.

She looks so soft. You meet her there and curl up into her side, and she wraps an arm around you. You feel like she's annoyed at herself, but that's nothing new. "Max," she says suddenly, softly, gently, like she would break if she spoke any louder. She sounds insecure.

You grab her hand. "I know." You whisper back.

You cherish the gentle kiss she leaves on your lips. Because, in truth, you've shared more of these moments than you want to reveal; seen her in her most delicate moments and pretended that you haven't, watched as she has pretended to close herself off to you, but has really only opened her mind, her heart, more to you. You've caught her so many times, looking at you, looking at you so gracefully and gently, and that single look always tells you everything you need to know about Victoria, and about how she feels for you.

You think that she knows. Secretly, maybe not even consciously, she knows that you catch her looking at you like that, and she does it anyway. Gets carried away.

You hope so. Because if there's one thing Victoria is, it's smitten.

And you are so fucking glad she's smitten with you.


	3. Clueless

**#3: Clueless** \- Max finds Nathan's cluelessness hilarious.

Just a random thought I had.

* * *

When Nathan sees you he pushes you into the wall and laughs. It's nothing new. He always does it, alone or with others. You never laugh but his groupies always do, even if they don't find it funny.

Or, at least, you never used to laugh.

But now, on this day, you laugh now. Not out of bitterness or hate (though you wonder sometimes if it is) but out of smugness. Because you know so much that he does not know, one of these things would set him so on edge he would probably rip at his own face if he so much as even saw a picture of you. He'd probably murder you with his bare hands, punch at your stomach until he can fit his fist through a man-made hole in your stomach and come out the other side. God knows what he'd do to Victoria.

The thing that gives you so much life, so much happiness and joy, is the thing that would crush Nathan Prescott into two little pieces on the floor. And so, when he pushes you into the wall today, you can only laugh.

You wonder, sometimes, if a moment can be as beautiful as it is terrifying.

You wonder this as you're laughing and Nathan suddenly looks like he might kill you – _really_. His eyes are wild and untamed; the harsh, bright blue of them hurts, especially when compared to the soft brown of Victoria's, who is standing just next to him.

You stop laughing when he lunges for you.

Your eyes are squeezed shut, you're waiting for the punch – the flinch, the pain, the hard thud of your body against the floor – but it does not come.

You open your eyes.

Victoria is holding him back, barely, but managing.

"She's not worth it, Nathan." She says, her eyes staring at you – half a glare, really, which is to be expected given your stupidity. "She's hipster trash, and you're Nathan fucking Prescott."

You pretend like the words don't hurt you, because they shouldn't. This is what you had agreed on: secrecy. But the words sting. They sting, and they shouldn't, and you hate yourself for being so weak as to forget that this is the same Victoria who had cuddled you, whispered that she loved you and fell asleep with you just yesterday.

Nathan shrugs Victoria away. "Fuck _off,_ Victoria!" he says, but he seems suddenly calmer. You see Victoria take a small step away. Nathan doesn't notice. He points a finger at you, bony but strong, and warns: "You stay the fuck away from me, you fucking hear me?"

You don't move.

Nathan thinks this is enough, is probably satisfied by your lack of an answer; like he thinks you can't move out of fear, when in reality you just don't know what to do with yourself. He yanks at his jacket and glares at you one last time before striding off. Victoria hesitates for a moment.

She looks at you, her lips an adorable quiver, stuck between staying with you or staying on Nathan's good side. She waits a moment, begs for you to understand without ever saying a word. You do understand, because you know her.

You give the smallest, most unnoticeable smile, but you know that Victoria sees it.

She begins to walk away, and catches up with Nathan. She doesn't dare to look back, though you know she wants to. So, instead, you watch her leave, because you have that freedom. You can't help the smile that fills your face.

 _Nathan Prescott_ , you think, _you really are a clueless bastard._


	4. Heartbeat

**#4: Heartbeat** \- Max's powers have gotten the best of her. A clueless Victoria sits by her bedside.

Okay, promise this isn't depressing. It's cute.

* * *

Max sits in the hospital bed, asleep, pale, breathing shallow. She's so white Victoria finds it hard _not_ to stare, and she reaches out and grabs Max's limp hand in her own, grasps it tightly, so tightly she's hoping to make up for the strength Max has lost.

Victoria should have noticed something was wrong. The nosebleeds had been getting worse, not better; Max had just been lying to her to make her feel okay. It's a thought that makes Victoria shake her head in distaste, bobbing her head down slightly in sadness. Sadness – because this is just who Max is, what she does, and she has always protected Victoria. It is selfless, and makes Victoria want to cry.

Max has yet to wake up. When Victoria had found her late last night she had been so cold and limp, collapsed on her bedroom floor with a nosebleed that had stained the carpet; the blood was so dark, and Max was so pale. Kate had been next to her, fallen to her knees next to Max and attempting to shake her awake, again and again, crying, until Victoria had pulled her from Max and called an ambulance, all the while trying to remain composed. Kate wasn't exactly the most stable of people, and Victoria acting up would have made things worse.

Victoria, naturally, had ridden in the ambulance. She didn't care what it looked like to Nathan or the other students, she just wanted Max to be okay. To be safe.

She had remained composed until Max was safe in the hospital, wrapped up in the off-white blankets of her new bed. And then she had cried. Wetted Max's new, comfortable bed, and smacked her hand against her head so many times in an attempt to compose herself. She had told Max so many things she had never told anyone else. And Max had also understood, seemed to understand more than Victoria could know. That was maybe what hurt the most: Max had secrets that she wasn't telling Victoria, and maybe if she hadn't kept these damn nosebleeds a secret –

Maybe…maybe then…

But it is useless to think so. Max, no doubt, had good reasons for keeping things secret. Some things people were better off not knowing.

And, as much as Victoria had hated doing so, she had called Chloe and told her what had happened and where to find them. Max would've wanted Chloe to know, and so Victoria acted, despite knowing the hostilities Chloe would throw her way; it wasn't like she was aware Max and Victoria were dating. How could she expect kindness? Victoria knew she wasn't a nice person.

"That's why you have to get better, Max." Victoria whispers, so quietly she barely takes a breath. "You're a much better person than I am."

Max's heartbeat remains steady, and her eyes remain closed.

But that was also why it hurt so much more when Chloe had shown up, the swelled-up sadness in her eyes. Chloe clearly knew a lot more than Max was willing to tell Victoria, and that really fucking hurt.

But she is alone now, and Chloe isn't here. It's just her and Max.

Victoria waits for Chloe to show. They had agreed on a rotation, so both could eat and change clothes, but when Chloe arrives and silently takes Victoria's place, grabbing Max's hand, Victoria doesn't leave. Instead, she drags herself out into the waiting room and forces herself into one of the seats. She will not go home whilst Max is unconscious. She will stay here until it's time to switch again.

Just as she had done earlier today. And just as she will do tomorrow.

* * *

She wakes up with her head on Max's bed, a hand gently stroking her head.

"Max…" she mumbles, and curls the blankets around her fingers, the fumble of sleep still on her mind.

She gets no reply. Victoria sighs, but it's deep and heavy and it makes Victoria's eyes fill with tears. But then she wonders who is stroking her head, and her reaction to this fleeting question is so fast – her head flinging upwards and her body rigid with hope – that Victoria is dizzied as she stares at Max – as she stares at an _awake_ Max, chomping on jelly and looking at Victoria with her soft, beautiful blue eyes, her hand falling from Victoria's head and hitting the mattress uselessly. She looks healthy, if still mildly pale.

"Maxine!" Her voice is shocked. She fumbles for Max's hand and, when she has it, she grips it tightly and showers it in kisses.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Max says and Victoria laughs exhaustedly because that's what she should be saying to Max.

"I love you." Victoria blurts and Max smiles a wicked, wide, gleeful smile because Victoria has never said that, always been a bit awkward with feelings, but she says it now, loud and proud, and Max's heart explodes.

Victoria hears the heartbeat monitor fasten.

"I love you, too." Max replies, gently. Quickly, Victoria stands, leans forward, and captures Max's lips in a large, grateful kiss. She tastes of raspberry jelly, and the kiss is fast but slow, filled with urgency but remains gentle.

Max's heartbeat monitor goes faster, still. Victoria smiles smugly.

"Looks like you enjoy my kisses." She breathes, inches from Maxine's lips.

Max is breathless. "I've been without them for a day or so. So, yeah."

Victoria kisses her again and steals more of her breath away. "Don't do that again."

Max nods. "Never again, Ma'am."

They kiss again. The room is silent, except for the overly excessive beating of the heartrate monitor. It's a surprising comfort.

* * *

"Doctor, room 312's heartrate monitor is beating out of control," the nurse says as she follows the doctor up the hall, eager to catch up. "should I go and check it out?"

"312?" the doctor replies. "I'll go. Maxine is my patient; she woke up this morning. She's probably just a little run down."

But both go together. And when they arrive at the open door, and move to step in, both doctor and nurse immediately freeze into place. Maxine, her patient, is being straddled by that blonde girl who's always at Max's bedside, having the life kissed out of her. It's desperate and loving, and the doctor feels as if she's intruding.

"Well," the nurse says, a smirk on her face. "She's not run down, but maybe a little excited."

"Leave 'em to it." The doctor says and turn away like nothing has happened. But the nurse sees the doctor's light blush, and as they walk away, she feels a playful smile pull on her face.

"Didn't know you were so awkward about intimacy, doc."

The doctor could only flush. She'll go back later…when they're less… _busy_.


	5. Kisses

**#5: Kisses** \- Max loves Victoria's kisses. Sometimes a little too much.

Slightly smutty but not really. Gimmee some reviews, I crave them. :)

* * *

When she kisses you, you think the world is spinning. Her lips: so soft, so gentle, so careful against your own. She kisses you like she means it, and when her arms wrap so securely around your waist – she wraps them so tightly around you and pulls you onto her lap – you feel her sigh as your lips meet hers, and her warm breath is such a comfort your heart feels physically weakened in relaxation.

It's not like how you thought Victoria would kiss you: you thought she would be harsh and demanding, thought your kisses would be bruising, but instead they are so gentle and warm. Her tongue slides into your mouth with ease; slow but sure, and you are thankful for this – even your first kiss was just as gentle, if not even more so, and she had kissed you with just as much certainty. This was good because you had never been kissed before, and she had taken the lead without being demanding.

But you love her greedy side. The demanding side. The side of her that you are seeing more and more of: she will bring your lips together into a ferocious kiss, her grip hard on the back of your head and yours clutching at her hips, desperate to hold as much of her as you can. She will moan, or you will, loud and breathy and low and it makes your insides boil and your lips tingle. And your touches will be desperate and hot, and before you know it you or her or both will be topless and Victoria will be kissing the large milky expanse of your neck and collarbone, and then you'll moan too deeply, too desperately, and Victoria will jump away from you and apologise like you didn't want what was happening, like it was all her fault.

And you will take three deep breaths and squirm in your seat, and tell her that it's okay, and that you liked it, that you liked it _too much,_ and then Victoria will get this hungry, predatory look in her eyes that makes your abdominal muscles tense and your legs weak. You'll feel so hot between your legs, imagine the things Victoria could do to you, that you could do to her, and then you'll kiss her again, lightly but desperately, and Tori will pull away again.

"Tori," you whine as she shuffles away from you.

"when you're sure." She says, and it must have been so hard for her to resist because she is breathless and her voice is so husky and deep, and so fucking sexy.

"But I'm – I'm so –" but you don't know what to say, so you just leave the sentence empty and hanging.

Victoria understands. "I know –" she says, her voice a lot higher than she meant to be – "I _know._ " She says again. "I – I am too."

That one sentence sets your blood on fire, and your eyes flutter for a moment before meeting her diluted ones. "Well, what do we – what do we do?"

Victoria looks at you, blushes lightly, and looks away. You think she is so gorgeous. "You could start by putting your top on." She says, and this time you blush.

You shove your top over your head. It feels constricting.

"And now?"

"And – and _now_ " Vic says, standing abruptly and walking to your closet. "We play a board game. A total cock-block."

Victoria pulls out Jenga.

You laugh, but help her set it up. She kisses you on your forehead and the touch tingles after she's gone, and you play Jenga. You win; and as the tower is collapsing – it's a tall tower – Victoria looks at you and smiles, almost coyly.

You don't know how you got so lucky. You think she is too good for you. There is so much you haven't told her, and you don't know that you will.

So you suck it up and pick the blocks off of the floor, hoping to build another tower again with Victoria, hoping you won't be the one to mess it up.

Because she's really too good for you. Even if she sucks at Jenga.


	6. Red-nosed Demon

**#6: Red-nosed Demon** – Victoria is ill, self-conscious and unhappy. Max is just a helpful doofus.

For PotterheadJackson, who requested to have either an ill Max or Victoria, with one taking care of the other. I hope this satisfies you! If not tell me and I'll try again ;)

* * *

It's so cute, Max thinks, staring at a red-nosed Victoria with her head just poking out of her covers, her duvet up to her nose. There are tissues littering the floor, and a very pretty, very _ill_ girl currently sniffling on another one before chucking it to join the others.

Max stands at the doorway, smiling. Victoria hadn't been to Mr Jefferson's class today so she knew the girl was either dead, or at least physically incapacitated. Nothing else would have stopped her from attending his class.

She takes a step in and closes the door behind her.

"Max!" Victoria says, jolting in shock. Her voice was loud, raspy and a little croaky, and Victoria immediately bursts into a coughing fit afterwards.

"Woah, woah, Tori, calm down. Don't strain yourself." Max grabs her glass of water and passes it to her. She slurps greedily, and Max smiles because the sight of an ill Victoria is just so cute, even if a little disease-ridden. "I just figured you were ill, what with you missing Jefferson's class and everything."

Victoria remains on the defensive, shoving her duvet over her head. "Maxine, get _out!"_

Max takes a step forward when she hears Victoria have another coughing fit, muffled under the covers. "Why?" she says, confused and a little amused. She opens her messenger bag and pulls out a thermos of chicken soup. "I brought you soup."

An eye pops out. "Chicken?"

"Uhuh." Max nods. "Your faavvvourite!" she sings, waving the flask in front of Victoria's face. "And I also brought you the assignment from Mr Jefferson to cheer you up."

Victoria retreats from the covers, grumpy but hiding a smile. She can see the twitching of Victoria's mouth, and the slight flush of her cheeks, the red of her lips and nose, the bags under her eyes. Max thinks she is adorable. Her hair is slightly ruffled, sticking up in places, but the girl could still walk down the corridor of Blackwall Academy and own the place; the people would still stare at her, still call her gorgeous. Because that is just who Victoria is.

Victoria takes the soup and the assignment; shoving the thermos on her beside desk and dumping the assignment on her bed between her legs. "Thank you." she says, honest and a little shy. Her voice takes a stern note. "You can go now."

Max frowns. "Don't you wanna snuggle?"

Victoria looks at her like she's stupid. "No."

"Well, _I_ want to snuggle."

Max slides her shoes off carelessly and hops onto the bed.

"No – Max – wait –" But Max snuggles up behind Victoria, carefully sliding under the covers, and wraps her arms around her cold girlfriend. Victoria tenses under her touch. It's odd and Max feels a little offended about it, but lets it go.

"Today," she exclaims, a little too happy. "I am the big spoon."

Victoria sighs. Max sees Tori's face flush red, but Tori says nothing.

"Don't be a grumpy goose."

Victoria snorts and the tension leaves her body; the sudden relaxation of her girlfriend makes Max happy, and she nestles her head in Victoria's neck.

They lie in the silence. Max is content to stay silent; Victoria is too stubborn to speak.

Max thinks Tori is about to fall asleep – her heartbeat is so slow and steady, her eyes are closed, her breathing is a little raspy but solid – when, instead, she speaks, coyly, a whisper: "Max," she says, her eyes are open and gentle. "thanks."

Max smiles, lays a gentle kiss on her neck. "Anytime." She replies. "You want some soup?"

Victoria sighs. "Yeah." She says, defeated. "And I – I need to blow my nose. Can you just – not watch me whilst I do?"

A laugh escapes her throat before she can stop it, and it makes Victoria scowl, makes Max feel bad, but she can't stop, and Victoria looks so vulnerable –

"Why?" Max says, suddenly gentle.

"I just –" Victoria looks away. "I don't – didn't – want you to see me looking like this. Ugly."

Max pulls a face, brings Victoria close, close enough to rest their foreheads together, closes her eyes. "Tori, I love you." she says, scoffing another laugh and opening her eyes. Victoria's big brown ones stare away from her, and Max grabs at her chin to get her attention. "And you will never be ugly to me. Please don't feel self-conscious."

She pulls away. "O-okay." Victoria replies. "I'm sorry for being stupid."

"You're not stupid."

Victoria looks at her as if to say ' _really, Maxine?'_ and Max relents and smiles.

"Okay; but just a _little_ stupid."

She waits whilst Victoria blows her nose and then takes the tissue for her, aims straight for the bin and throws – it misses! Max groans in defeat. "Next time, bin, I shall defeat you. You make a formidable opponent."

Victoria rolls her eyes and pulls the thermos from the desk, opens it and pours a little cup, taking a sip and sighing in content. Max takes it from her and Victoria whines, reaches out weakly to grasp the cup; Max holds it back.

"I wanna feed it to you."

Another flat expression from Victoria. Ouch. "Excuse you?"

"You heard."

Another sigh from Victoria. Ouch. "Fine."

She opens her mouth – Max gently presses the cup against Victoria's soft lips and pushes it forward –

Victoria takes a long sip and sighs contentedly. "It's really good." She says, leaning back against her headboard and closing her eyes. "Thank you, Max."

"You're welcome. Now, time for a selfie."

"Max, what?" Victoria's eyes snap open. "No, what the fuck, no!"

She holds the camera up and out, facing them. "Say, 'go fuck your selfie'!"

It flashes. Max is grinning like an idiot as she waves the photo around and waits for it to develop. When it has, she nods viciously, vehemently, shows it to a scowling, slightly blind Victoria. "Oh, yeah, _that's_ one for the wall."

Victoria grumbles, but accepts another sip of soup from her loser, annoying girlfriend. Because, after all, she is _Victoria's_ girlfriend, and she is so fucking glad.


	7. Lessons

**#7: Lessons** – Max wants to talk about how Victoria used to flirt with Mr Jefferson.

I felt like this would be a thing Max would want to address. But, woe is me, whenever I try to be serious I always end up being all comic relief. Still, this made me smile, and I hope it does you :)

By the by, I should mention that I _do_ take requests, if anyone wants something paticular. And also, thank you for the reviews! They keep me alive.

* * *

"I…I want to talk about Mr Jefferson." Max says. She's sat on Victoria's bed, her arms are crossed in confident defiance but she is slowly folding into herself with each syllable, growing smaller and smaller and pretending not to. To be completely honest, she doesn't _want_ to talk about Mr Jefferson. She needs to.

The images of Victoria, of Victoria bent over his desk, a flirty smile on her face, a hand stroking down his arm, a suggestive comment…it makes her blood boil, her mind fumble, her heart hurt. She has to talk about Mr Jefferson, because if she doesn't she is worried it will become a very large problem.

Max has enough large problems. She doesn't want her relationship to become one.

"yeah?" Victoria looks away from her laptop for a moment, looking at Max with her sharp yet doughy brown eyes, before looking back to her technology. "What about him?"

"You – well - you – you used to – urm –" Max stares down at her hands, blushing and fumbling with her fingers, pressing the pad of her thumb against her sweaty palm and rubbing until it hurt. She's cursing at herself in her head, hating that she can't get this one little sentence out, address the thing that has been bothering her, and move on. "It's just – you used to – I mean it wasn't my business that you did – but now that we're dating – it's just I've been – bothered, I supposed, bothered – by the thought -"

"Max." Victoria spins her chair to face Max, pushes it forward and takes Max's fidgety hands in her own strong ones. Max's shoulder's slump. She doesn't meet Victoria's gaze. "It's okay."

"No it's not." Max says. She feels stupid, childish, weak, pathetic. This isn't something that should bother her, but it does, and now she's finally addressing this petty problem she can't even talk about it –

"Yes, Max, it is. I understand why you would want to talk about him." Victoria intertwines their fingers, lets her strong, dry hands encapsulate Max's shaky, sweaty ones. "It was mostly for show. But – my parents, growing up in their world, I learned that if you ever really want to get somewhere in your life, you need to kiss ass for it. You have to work as hard as you can, and then push yourself further, and then, when you've put all this work in, you still need to fucking sleep with someone for it to ever get somewhere."

Max looks up. "That's not – "

"Please, Maxine, let me finish." Victoria takes a deep breath, brings Max's hand up to her mouth, and kisses it delicately. "It was why I was so shitty to you when you turned up. You did what you loved, slept through the lessons, only did what was required of you…and Mr Jefferson loved you. He loved you. It was exasperating." Victoria is the one to look away from Max, now, clearly unable to meet such soft blue eyes whilst admitting something so… _dirty._ But her voice is quiet and methodical, as if she had rehearsed how to tell Max this, that she had written down these words and swallowed them, kept them burning inside her until Max asked for them. Left them there for a while to rot in her regret. "Max, when I saw your work, I understood why he loved you. You saw the good in the world - the – the pure and beautiful. And that made me hate you, and turn desperate, and – and flirt with Mr Jefferson. I wanted to get ahead. It was the only way I knew how. I was ignorant enough to think that that was the only way how."

Victoria is silent now, for a moment, but Max does nothing but stare at her, because she feels like Victoria has more to say, needs a moment to work up the courage to speak again.

And when Victoria meets her eyes, she feels a punch in her gut. Her girlfriend looks so remorseful. Max doesn't ever want to see her look this way again. She gives her hand a squeeze, and hopes that that is enough.

Victoria gives a small smile - so small, but it is a grateful one.

"I wanted to make my parents proud but – to be honest, they haven't really – uh – talked to me, since the school year started."

Max stays still for a moment. Sees her brown eyes swimming in unshed tears.

Digests.

Waits.

Stares.

Pulls Victoria into her, and onto her lap. Brings her lips to Vic's forehead and kisses it - one time, two times, three times - and then strokes a hand through her short, soft blonde hair. "Then they are missing out." She says, and smiles. "Because, man, have they got a hell of a daughter."

Victoria chokes a laugh.

"Maybe I should send them an email: 'Dear Mr and Mrs Chase, I am proud to inform you that I am dating your daughter. Although we have had our differences, we have both put aside our desires to fuck our selfies and to, instead, fuck each other. Sincerely, Max Caulfield."

Victoria wears a smile. It's one Max hasn't seen before, and that makes her superbly happy. It's a slanted one, more like a smirk, and her eyes are sparkling with this look that says Max is probably the most amusing person alive, though she can't take that credit. An amused smile. A happy smile. A contented smile.

Max decides that this might be her favourite smile.

"Although we haven't actually _had_ sex yet." Victoria says, and kisses her gently on the mouth.

Max grins like a fool. "Nah," she says, "but let's freak them out anyway. They'll be all like: 'Ahh! Our daughter's a lesbian! Hide the plaid! Hide the plaid!'" she laughs.

Victoria doesn't look nearly as amused.

"Plaid? No thank you."

But then she pulls Max into her and kisses her, hard and true and long, and when she finally pulls away both are breathless and dizzy and eager for more.

Victoria is looking at Max so gently. A hand is on Max's cheek, brushing aside her hair, Victoria's lips are curved into a faraway smile. "I love you, Maxine Caulfield." She whispers, gently, so gently she may not have even spoken.

"I love you, too." Max replies, and kisses her again.

When she pulls away, Victoria is still wearing that smile.

Max decides that nothing can compete to that smile.

"I don't believe that now, you know." Victoria says. Her voice is still a small whisper, low and husky. Max loves Victoria's voice.

"Believe what?"

Max leans her forehead against Victoria's and closes her eyes. "Believe that sleeping around is the only way to get ahead. To reach your goals." Victoria slides her hands down to Max's arms, and rubs them gently. "Max, being with you has taught me so much. And the main thing you have taught me, is that being yourself is really the best way to get what you want. I mean, look at me. I'm dating you, as myself, aren't I?"

"I don't know, Tori." Max says, pulling back and staring hard at her girlfriend. "Are you yourself? Are you pretending?" she gasps. "Are you secretly Taylor?"

Victoria hits her arm gently, playfully. "Hey, you. I pull off this sweater so much better than Taylor could."

Max laughs. "That's true."

They share a delicate kiss that lasts only seconds, but Max feels it so deeply she's insistent that it _had_ to be longer.

"And you're a much better kisser." Max says, bopping Victoria's nose and smirking.

"That's right." she says, smugly. Max watches as her face suddenly goes from content to horrified. "Wait, _what_?"

Max bursts into giggles.


	8. Warren

**#8: Warren** \- Victoria is a little jealous. Max is a little amused. Warren is a little sad.

Because I couldn't _not_ write this. Enjoy!

* * *

"Oh, God, he has such a boner for you; it's disgusting."

Max watches as Victoria's face contorts in disgust as she stares at Warren, who's watching Max and Victoria with not-so-subtle interest instead of playing with Brooke's drone, which she is trying to force on him.

"Gross, Victoria." Max says, looking at her distastefully.

"Well, it's true!" Victoria looks back to Max. "He knows you're with me, what the hell is he doing looking like some sad little virgin puppy." She crosses her arms on the bench table, and rests her head on them neatly, pouting but trying to hide it. "It's just embarrassing."

Max gives a wide, cheeky smirk. "Tori, are you _jealous_ of the attention he gives me?"

Victoria has enough pride to look indignant, and she lifts her head in rejection and scoffs. "Him? Please, he has no chance with you. I'm just fed up of having to get Samuel to mop up his trail of saliva. The guy is fucking drooling after you."

Max pokes at her arm gleefully. "I think someone's jealous."

Victoria rolls her eyes, but only half-heartedly, and it makes Max doubt whether she should be teasing. "Please, jealousy is ugly. I am _not_ ugly."

"You're right about that." Max unfolds Victoria's arms and takes a reluctant Victoria's hand in her own, despite Vic's attempts to stop her. "And you also have nothing to worry about. Warren's nice and all, but I'm kinda – well, don't tell anyone, but I'm kinda seeing this person who I think is really amazing. I don't wanna mess it up."

Victoria gives a small smile. "Really?" she says. Her voice sounds small, and soft. Max realises she needs this.

"Oh, yeah. And, don't tell anyone –" Max leans in close. "but they're a _girl."_

Victoria's smile gets wider. "They are?" she says, trying to keep the curves of her lips from tilting further upwards.

"I know, it's scandalous. And, believe it or not, but they are the sweetest, cutest, _funniest_ person at Blackwell."

Victoria caves now, Max sees it happen, sees her open up and smile a full-forced, beautiful smile, with no attempts to stop it, and her eyes gleam in happiness – and possibly satisfaction. "You sound very lucky." She says, her voice is playful.

Max just nods and kisses her hand. The two of them look at each other for a moment – the lover's look, the look of two people who see nothing but each other.

"Oh, and she's also pretty hot." Max finishes, crushing the moment in the palm of her hand.

Thankfully, Victoria only laughs. "You're pretty hot." Victoria says.

Max blushes. She actually _blushes._

"Holy. Shit." Victoria says, before elaborating. "I've seen you blush before – I mean, you're an awkward mess sometimes, how could I not have? - but since we've been going out I've never once – you've had balls of steel. And now you're _blushing!_ Because I called you hot! Maxine, you're too cute."

Max pouts. "Dooon't." she whines.

Victoria shrugs, smiles, leans forward, and gives her a long, public-safe kiss.

Max feels her heart pound at the look in Victoria's eyes. It's a mischievous look.

She watches, unable to stop (or just not wanting to?) as Victoria turns towards Warren, waves to him and watches as he tries to pretend he wasn't watching – he quickly looks away and rubs at the back of his head, and all Max can think is, _really, Warren? That's the best you can do?_ – and then Victoria pulls Max into her by the neck of her shirt and plants a long, _not_ public-safe kiss on her lips. It's rough and deep, with Victoria biting at Max's lower lip, sliding her tongue across it and slipping into Max's mouth before she knows what's happening, and then Max is suddenly thinking _Oh sweet baby Jesus_ when Victoria moans, deep, loud, husky. It's put-on, Max knows this, but the tingle between her legs is immediate.

And then Victoria is away from her, standing and holding out her hand. "Do you want to go to my room?" she asks, with bedroom eyes and everything. Max just nods enthusiastically.

She leaps from the bench, grabs Victoria's hand, and the two and rushing away immediately. "Bye Warren!" Max yells excitedly, watching as Warren's shoulders slump in the distance.

Max knows Victoria is smug, but for once she thinks she has every reason to be.

Poor Warren.

Lucky Max.


	9. Victoria's Secret

**#9: Victoria's Secret -** Victoria decides it's time to tell Taylor. Courtney, too, but nobody cares about her.

The name was a total accident but it's also funny so I'm not changing it. Max is now synonymous for sexy underwear.

* * *

"Taylor, Courtney, I have something that I need to tell you."

Usually, Victoria isn't one for all this suspenseful shit drama, but, today, she is telling her best friends about her relationship with a girl - and not just any girl, but Maxine Caulfield. She's nervous, she'll admit – not aloud, of course, but to herself, and the constricting nerves in her chest.

She keeps her head high, her hands still, her pose elegant, and makes sure her voice hits the perfect level of authority.

"Oh, yeah, Victoria?" Taylor says. "Is this, like, _big_ big? Or just, like, that the top Courtney is wearing makes her look fat?"

"-What the fuck, Taylor?" Courtney says, but Victoria just waves her hand in dismissal.

"Oh, Courtney, who are you kidding?" she says, before looking back to Taylor. "And it's – well, it's the sort of thing you'll want to tell everybody. And the sort of thing that if you _do_ tell everyone, I'll replace your nail varnish with glue."

Taylor takes a breath out. "Wow, shit. I thought you were going to say you'd kill me or something – but that's even _worse."_

Victoria nods. "Exactly. So don't mess this shit up, okay?"

She gets two eager nods, and momentarily wonders how having sticky fingers is worse than dying. She doesn't ponder.

"I'm dating Max Caulfield."

Victoria waits a beat – one, two, three – and holds her breath when they say nothing. Is that better or worse, she wonders, will they freak out or be chill?

"Wait, wait, wait, _wait_ " Courtney says. "Max Caulfield? The polaroid freak with the tatty messenger bag and creepy geek stalker?"

Taylor looks at her with a gaping mouth, squinting eyes, and furrowed eyebrows, but it is Victoria that speaks.

"Shut the fuck _up,_ Courtney. I tell you I'm dating Max Caulfield and the first fucking thing you do is make fun of her? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Courtney shrugs but obediently curls into herself, shutting up.

Victoria waits for Taylor to speak first. This could make or break their friendship – she knows that Courtney didn't mean ill, but she has this problem where she doesn't fucking _think_ before she speaks because she's so desperate to act mean to stay in the Vortex Club. It's ridiculous. But Taylor – Taylor isn't like that. If Taylor doesn't agree – this could _actually_ become a problem. She hopes Taylor doesn't realise her own influence because although Victoria has far _more_ influence, dating Max will hurt that, and she'll need Taylor's support. If all she has is Courtney –

Then she's fucking screwed.

"Max is kinda cute…" Taylor says, but Victoria doesn't relax; she waits for the ball to drop. "in a geeky, socially-awkward way but that's totally in at the moment. And she can be pretty funny, and is clearly into you if she still hasn't gone after that Warren guy lapping at her feet. I approve, I guess."

Victoria smiles at Taylor, who is smiling right back. This is the best she had expected, and she hadn't expected it to go this well. "I'm glad you approve." She says, grabbing Taylor's hand.

"I approve, too!" says Courtney, quickly, waving her hand in the air and throwing it back and forth.

"Great, Courtney." Victoria says, actually acknowledging her. "Now, you wanna go out? I'm thinking Two Whales."

"And I have been craving pancakes." Taylor replies. "Lead the way, newly-found lesbian."

Victoria turns around, unamused. "None of that." She said, pointing a finger at her.

Taylor laughs. "Sorry."

But Courtney, ever ignorant, turns around to grab her bag and when she turns back, the door is shut and they are gone. She didn't even hear the door close. She pouts, a sinking feeling in her gut. "Guys..." she says, sighing, her shoulders drooping. She is so used to this. That didn't mean it doesn't hurt. "I want pancakes."

The door opens. "Are you coming, Courtney, or do I have to drag you out by you dried-out roots?"

Courtney smiles. "Coming, Vic." She says, running to catch up.

Sometimes everything turns out okay.


	10. Hipster

**#10: Hipster** – Max didn't mean to find it. But she's so grateful that she did.

This was something I just had to write. I had to write it. I'm so glad I wrote it.

* * *

Max didn't mean to find it. Victoria had mentioned she was cold and wanted a cardigan of hers out of her cupboard. Max was just trying to be a helpful girlfriend when she jumped up and went into Victoria's closet to find one. Victoria didn't even have enough time to tell her to stop.

Max is so glad she didn't have enough time to say stop.

Because, when she pulled open that cupboard, what she found was far more than a simple cardigan.

She pulls it out of the cupboard, slowly, holding it in her hand like a giant diamond, careful not to drop it, her eyes transfixed on it. She spares a moment to look at Victoria, who is covering her face with her hands and blushing. "Maxine!" she says, her voice muffled.

"Victoriaaa…" Max says, her voice teasing, playful, but also very curious. "Why do you have this?"

Victoria drops one of her hands and looks at Max – in the eyes, ballsy enough. "I was – urm – I was – I was going to – give it to you for Christmas?"

It sounds like a question, and Max feels a smirk twitch at her lips. "Christmas was last month."

"I forgot!" Victoria quickly stands, walks over to Max, shoves the item against her chest and laughs nervously. "Uhh – happy Christmas, Maxine!"

"Victoria…"

Max doesn't believe her one bit, Victoria's blushing face knows this. Victoria's pride, however… "I know you like that hipster junk and I figured – well, you know."

"So, you got me a polaroid camera, even though I already have one?"

"Well, you see, it's –"

"I think someone's lying."

"So this is what I get for doing something nice?" Victoria huffs, crosses her arms, and turns around. "Real classy, Max. That's – that's the last time I buy you anything."

Max laughs and puts the polaroid on Victoria's desk, placing a hand on Victoria's shoulder and spinning her around before she can shake off Max's touch. "You can tell me, Tori. I won't laugh."

Victoria, sighing, meets Max's eyes and Victoria looks so sad, and embarrassed, and a little mortified, and Max wants to laugh – so badly she does – but she promised she wouldn't. "I – well, watching you take all these pictures on your camera made me curious and I – I thought I would try it out even though the digital world is _far_ superior in every way and this is the twenty-first – fucking - century. Jesus, Max, you're such a hipster."

Max cannot help the very, very large grin that encapsulates her face like the Cheshire cat. "But Victoria," she whispers, "you have a polaroid camera, so do you know what that makes you?"

Victoria takes a step back, her eyes widening in fear. She points a shaky finger at Max. "Don't you say it –"

Max says it.

"A _hipster."_

Victoria looks mortified. She collapses onto her bed and covers her eyes with the palms of her hands. Max picks up Victoria's polaroid.

"This'll make a great first picture for your polaroid."

Victoria is just about to get up and yell at Max, beg her not to, when the picture is taken and developed. And the proof is physical.

"It's official." Max says, keeping the picture out of reach from a desperate Victoria, who is clawing at Max and desperately struggling for the photo. "You're one of us."

Victoria hangs her head in shame.


	11. Aneurism

**#11: Aneurism** – Chloe walks in on Victoria and Max. Max really doesn't know what to do.

A little OOC but I was in a funny mood, and needed to get it out. This is awkward Max being awkward.

* * *

"What. The. _Fuck_!" Chloe says, slamming the door behind her. You pull up from Victoria like a Meerkat when they stand straight on two legs, and probably look a bit like one too.

"Shit." Victoria says, quickly jumping up and grabbing her cream silk button-down shirt from the floor. She wraps it around herself and begins to button it up. You stare at her, because her hair is a little wild, her lips are a supple red, and her pupils are bigger than they're supposed to be. "Well, fuck me."

"I was _getting_ to that." You reply.

Ingenious response – _wrong_ time.

Chloe looks like she's been slapped, and takes two long strides forward and points a finger from you to Victoria. "You were fucking what?!" Chloe replies.

You can't help but feel a bit indignant. This is _your_ room, and you weren't supposed to meet Chloe tonight. You were meeting her tomorrow, Wednesday, and then you were going to go to the Two Whale, party like it's 1999 and chow down on pancakes.

"Chloe –" you begin, and you sound sort of husky, and you don't think you've ever heard yourself like that before, so you cough and try again, make your voice louder, your shoulders straighter, and try to keep Victoria behind you but she comes and stands right next to you and stares at Chloe like she wants to kill her. "We were supposed to meet on Wednesday –"

"Today _is_ Wednesday, Max! What the fuck is this? You're _fucking_ Victoria Chase?!"

Both of you leap forward and shush her, waving our hands around like madmen and giving her panicked eyes.

"Not so damn loud!" Victoria says.

You suddenly drop your hands. Stand still. Furrow your eyebrows. Purse you lips. Hum.

"It's Wednesday?" you say like an idiot and Victoria, next to you, mumbles "for shit sake, Maxine."

"Yes, it's fucking Wednesday and you're fucking Victoria!"

" _No,"_ you say, blushing. "I was _going_ to fuck Victoria and then _you_ walked in with no announcement, nothing."

Victoria looks at you with an eyebrow raised. She looks almost… _impressed_ , you think. "You are not acting yourself." She says, and Chloe nods in agreement.

"It's you," Chloe says pointing at Victoria. "you're a hella witch, changing Max into this weird outspoken, non-socially awkward, normal girl!" Chloe grabs at your hand, pulls you forward. "What are you doing with her nasty ass?"

"Dating it." You say.

This feels surreal.

Chloe drops your hand.

" _Dating_ – it? _Dating_ – Victoria Chase?"

"Yes, Dumbass." Victoria replies. "Now that this is established, can you leave? Max looks like she's having an aneurism."

"Hell, no!" Chloe says, "How the hell did this happen?"

You shrug. "Fate? Destiny? Who knows, life is mysterious."

Victoria rolls her eyes, crosses her arms and takes a step forward. "I got a little drunk at a Vortex party, knocked on Max's door. She took care of me."

Chloe looks at you like you're insane. "And somehow a night of looking after a puking demon leads to you dating it?"

"Well, yeah," you say, "she was a gorgeous puking demon."

"Oh, this is disgusting."

"And Victoria didn't puke. She told me she loved me and fell asleep on my bed –"

"-Max!" Victoria pulls you back to her. "Shut _up!_ "

"Okay – I need to, I need to leave and – digest this. This is hella weird."

Chloe doesn't even say goodbye. She just swings the door open and leaves, confused, and doesn't bother to shut the door after her.

"Damn," you say.

Victoria looks at you like you're insane. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I – have no idea. Did I say we were going to have sex?"

"Yes, dumbass."

"That's…not good. And not true. And not a good way to introduce my best friend to my girlfriend."

Victoria laughs, takes you into her arms and kisses your nose, and you smile because she is so cute. "You think, you weirdo?"

You purse your lips and look at her. She's called you a lot of names today. "At least I still have you."

"Nah," Victoria shrugs. "Chloe will come back. I think the two of us are more similar than she thinks."

"I'll be ready, then." you reply. "I won't make a fool of myself."

Victoria smiles. "We can hope." She says. "but after this, it doesn't look good."


	12. Tortoise

**#12: Tortoise** \- Victoria knows what she deserves, and Max isn't it.

A rather sad one-shot about Victoria, and how I think she would view her past mistakes and her relationship with Max. It ends on a bittersweet, hopeful note.

* * *

She looks at you like you know you don't deserve her to. She looks at you with this openness, this trust in her swimming blue eyes, this love that could so easily turn to vulnerability, and that vulnerability that could so easily turn to hurt, to anger, to hate.

You feel like you should be remorseful, the way she looks at you. But you're too selfish. When she looks at you, you can only feel this burning happiness; one that makes your eyes sting and your throat clog, your chest constrict as if you were having a heart attack. It's a happiness so pure and bright, it gives you hope that Max might actually make you a better person.

But you know that people can't change, even if they want to.

So, instead, when you hold her in your arms you always do it a little tighter than necessary, always tell her you love her more vehemently than you mean to. You count the seconds you spend with her as one more second than you should have had; count each time she looks at you with those eyes – eyes too pure and deep to have seen the bad of this world, but eyes you know have seen demons worse than your own. You kiss her every chance you get, smile at her in the selfish hope that she'll smile back, that you could memorise it, add it to all the other smiles of hers that you have memorised, ready to spoil yourself with her happiness on a rainy day.

You don't deserve the gifts she buys you, like the little plush tortoise she'd bought you because she said that it reminded her of you, of your relationship – reminded her because tortoises are slow, she'd said, and sometimes they don't really know where they're going, but they walk anyway, and sometimes they realise they've gone the wrong way and have to turn around and start all over again, slowly plod along, but that it's okay because their home is always with them. She said it was like your relationship with her, and you hadn't known what to do or say, so you had kissed her and cried. You didn't know how to tell her that you didn't deserve her, or her gift, because she wouldn't have believed you.

Max sees the best in people. That's what kept Kate alive that night, and it's what keeps your heart beating now, because God knows you don't deserve it to.

You practically pushed Kate up to that ledge, after all.

Max keeps people alive. You make people wish they were dead.

Max doesn't see this. Max doesn't see this and it frustrates you to tears because you are so fucking _happy_ she doesn't see this – only sees your manipulative, evil nature as this mistake that you can just turn around and make alright, like a damn tortoise.

You hate yourself because she loves you, but you love her for doing it. Love her so much you feel your heart will burst –

So, when you kiss her, you are gentle. For her, and for yourself.

People can't change, is what you tell yourself. But then you remember that you used to bully Max, that you pushed Kate up to that roof – realise, now, that you're dating the girl you bullied, and laughing with the girl you used to laugh at.

People can't change, you tell yourself, guilt-ridden.

But Max loves you because she knows you already have.


	13. Gift

**#13: Gift** – Max comes back from her visit to Seattle with a surprise present for Victoria: a toy tortoise. But she didn't mean to make Victoria cry!

So, I had referenced this tortoise in the last chapter. This chapter, I show you when Victoria received it from Max, and Max's reaction :D

* * *

Max walks down the hallway of the dorms towards her room, a big smile on her face. It was late at night so everyone was asleep, and the hall looked surprisingly dark and long to Max despite her creeping through these halls in the dead of night more times than she'd willingly admit.

It feels like it takes longer than it should to reach the end, where her room lies, but it might be because she is excited to see Victoria again. A week away from her was surprisingly difficult, she'll admit, she hadn't expected it to be. But she just kept thinking of what Victoria would say, or how she'd react, to the things her parents had said and the things they'd done.

To be honest, Max wouldn't have been surprised if Victoria had stayed quiet the entire time – afraid she'd say something wrong, probably, or embarrassed to be under her parent's scrutiny.

Victoria had promised to stay awake for when Max arrived home. Promised to wait in her room for Max. So, eagerly, Max stands in front of the door to her room and pushes down on the handle, opening the door gently. The light is still on.

"Victoria?" she says, her voice a half-whisper. She peeks her head around the door, and immediately her heart jumps.

It's Victoria all right, asleep on Max's bed and cuddling her pillow. Her hair is sticking up in some places, and her mouth is a little flopped open, pressed against Max's pillow. Max honestly can't help the huge smile that encompasses her face, it's something of instinct, because although a sleeping Victoria is cute, a sleeping Victoria who had not meant to fall asleep is far cuter.

"Tori?" Max says, tiptoeing her way over and gently stroking her girlfriend's arm. Victoria would want to be woken up, Max knows, otherwise she wouldn't have tried to stay up. "Hey, Tori, I'm sorry to wake you."

Victoria stirs awake, her eyes slowly opening as she lifts a lazy hand and rubs at her face, slowly inhaling a breath of air as she brings herself awake. "Max?" she says, her voice quiet and dazed with sleep.

"It's me." Max replies, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "I'm back."

And this seems to bring Victoria to her senses. "Shit." She says, bluntly. She sits up, blinks a couple times, her arms stretching out either side of her as she yawns. "I fell asleep."

"It's okay." Max says. "It took me a little longer than expected to get home."

"You're back." Victoria says. She pulls Max into her arms, Max falling onto the bed rather uncomfortably, but enjoying the feeling of Victoria's arms around her after a week of missing them. Max hears Victoria take a large breath in, feels her heart warm when she realises Victoria missed her just as much. "I've missed you."

"I missed you, too." Max replies, her hands running up and down Victoria's back. "And I got you a present."

They pull apart from one another, but, like magnetism, they stay close, mere inches from each other. "You did?" Victoria says, surprised. "I wasn't – I mean, I wasn't expecting you to get me something."

Max nods, reaches down into her bag. "I know. I just saw it and I thought of you."

And she smiles then, because the plush is so cute and she hopes that Victoria loves it. And when she pulls it out of her bag, almost with anticipation, she balances it on one of her hands and presents it to Victoria.

Victoria looks at it quizzically, and for a moment Max thinks she's messed up, bought some silly gift that Victoria hates, but then Vic takes it from Max and smiles at it, brings it to her chest and hugs it.

"It's so cute." She says, her voice still lazy from sleep. "Like you."

She kisses Max gently then, pulling back after a moment to stare down at the tortoise. "It is just so cute." She says.

"I saw it, and it reminded me of you." Max says and Victoria's brown eyes look at her, not like she's an idiot (which is what Max had expected) but interested, obviously curious how Max had reached such a conclusion. "I saw it, and I thought about how slow they are, but how that doesn't stop them from going the places they want to go and that, yeah, sometimes they go the wrong way and have to turn around and do it all over again, but that they don't mind because they always have their home with them." Max smiles, leans close and grabs Victoria's spare hand. Slides her thumb over Victoria's soft knuckles. "And I thought that it was a bit like how our relationship works. We make mistakes and sometimes we have to work at what we have, but that it's okay because we always have each other, and even if we mess up, we know that we have that security."

And the way Victoria looks at Max as she finishes that makes her heart break. She's astonished at Max's words, clearly, but most of all her eyes immediately tear up, her grip on this little stuffed tortoise tightens, and she just – starts shaking, only lightly, only for a moment, but then she is crying and Max doesn't know what to do, so she pulls Victoria into her arms, a hand on the back of her head, and shushes her gently.

"Tori," she says, "it's okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

And that makes Victoria cry harder, shove her head into Max's shoulder. Max can feel her tears wet her top.

Max grips her tighter, feels her face frown with worry, because she doesn't know what to do. What can she do but hold her?

So she does. She holds Victoria, gently, roughly, tightly, softly – however she needs to be held, Max does it. And she waits for the tears to stop, and it takes a while. By the time Victoria is done, her sleepy makeup has ran down her face, Victoria is gasping for breath, her chest violently rising and falling, and then, with lips wet from salty tears, she kisses Max. Kisses her hard, like you wouldn't believe. Kisses her roughly, possessively, but so softly – almost like she's trying to prove that Max is here, that she exists. So Max kisses back with just as much fervour.

And when they finally part, now _both_ of them breathless, Max cups Victoria's face in her hands, and whispers that she loves her. Victoria says it back, desperate for her to know that she does love her, loves her so much sometimes it hurts. Will love her until she can't anymore.

"I didn't mean to upset you." Max says, once they've calmed down. She kisses the tears from Victoria's face, kissing every little part of her cheeks until the whole of her is covered in Max's kisses, and the tears don't exist anymore.

"you didn't" Victoria replies. "I just –" she pauses, looks into Max's blue eyes as if she was searching for something, and clings to it once she has. "It was just so sweet, and I think you're the biggest dork I've ever met."

"Well, now you're just _flattering_ me." Max replies, a cheeky smile filling her face.

Their third kiss is soft and beautiful.

"Max, I swear to God I will never stop flattering you."

Max smiles, a little confused at her intensity, and nods. "I know." She says. Because she does.

They stay up for a while, entangled in each other's arms, but neither can stay awake for much longer – Max is tired from the journey, Victoria is tired from the crying. And when they fall asleep, they are still wrapped up in each other, and their little tortoise sits between them, a happy smile on his face.


	14. Drunk

**#14: Drunk** – Victoria is drunk and knocks on Max's door. She has some interesting things to say.

As mentioned in one-shot #10 'Aneurism', this is how Max and Victoria start dating. Well, how the idea is brought about, anyway. ;)

* * *

Victoria slumps down the hallways with a large grin on her face, her messy steps taking her down the bright hall and towards her room. But she is not _going_ to her room because she wants to see Maxine – Maxy Max, the best Max of all Maxes – Max's? Maxs? Maxines –

She knocks on the door lazily, her fist thumping at the wood a little louder than she meant to, she thinks, she wonders, wonders if she hit it as hard as she meant to or harder than she had thought she had hit it, or maybe she had hit it less hard than she had thought she had?

Maxine opens the door, and the first thing Victoria thinks is how cute she looks in her little vest top and shorts, her eyes squinting and her voice all quiet and sleepy 'cause she was sleeping and being all cute and Max-like. "Victoria?" Max says, rubbing at her eyes.

"Maxine!" Victoria yells in reply, smiling, opening her arms wide and pulling the small little hipster in for a hug – "I have totally missed you, you know, I was telling Taylor that your stupid smile is the prettiest stupid smile I've ever seen, and that your stupid selfies totally capture how stupidly pretty your stupid eyes are and your smile, and you're just so _pretty_ Maxine and how -? I mean, your polaraid – polaroid – is so cool and it's – that you don't need to digitally edit stuff, you know?"

Max is dazed when Victoria finally pulls away, her breath stinking of alcohol. "Alright, Victoria," Max says, grabbing a hold of her arm to steady her – smiling in amusement, but also _not_ smiling, because this is her regular bully. "we should get you to sleep."

"I fucking _love_ sleep." Victoria says, "We just have so much in common Maxine –"

"It's Max." Max replies, but her voice is a sigh, because trying to get a sober Victoria to call her Max is hard enough, but a drunken one is near impossible.

"I am so sorry –" Victoria slurs, "and sleep is so _fucking good."_

"I know it is, Victoria." Max replies. "So let's get you to bed –"

Victoria laughs triumphantly, punches a fist in the air. "Alright!"

"-and get you some water."

"I fucking _love_ water." Victoria says, barging past Max into her room. "See?" Her voice takes a whiny tone, a sort of solemn, sad tone, but also this weirdly happy one. "We are just _meant_ for each other, Max, I thought you totally _felt_ it –" she collapses onto Max's bed, looks up to the white ceiling and smiles, rocking her head back and forth. "Holy crap the ceiling is spinning, Maxine, can you believe that alcohol actually _does_ this stuff? I mean, like, I could totally –" Victoria's gaze locks on Max's wall of photos – "I love your photo-photography so much, it is just so amazing and I want to own all of your pictures, especially your selfies –"

"Okay, Victoria." Max says, because she knows this is just the alcohol, but some part of her, a worried part, a confused part, knows that not all of what she is saying and doing is totally the alcohol, because in every drunk person is a tiny little sane person calling out. "You know this isn't your bed, right? I was gunna take you to your bedroom –"

"Do you not like me in your bed, Max?" Victoria says, shooting Max her best alluring look, but her eyes just end up twitching. "I love being in your bed."

Max blushes. "Well I – I mean it's –"

"You can't tell me that only I feel this; you're just so cute and small and hipster, and your eyes are so sparkly, Maxine, where did you get such _sparkly_ eyes?"

"Well – I – I mean my mother –"

"Aw!" Victoria laughs, kicks her legs up in the air. "See? You're just too cute!"

"Victoria –"

Victoria sits up, grabs at Max's vest and pulls her into her. Their faces are practically touching, Max's body landing uncomfortably against Victoria's. "Don't you see how much I want you, Max?"

"Okay –" Max says, pulling away and feeling her face heat up. "you're very, very drunk right now. Did the Vortex douches spike your drink, or something?"

Victoria laughs again, over-exaggeratingly. "Oh my God, Max, you're so funny –" she snorts – "Vortext douches –"

Max sighs, and patiently reaches forward and grabs at Victoria's leather jacket, trying to pull it off her gently but given Victoria's squirmy, drunken nature, it ends up being more of a struggle than necessary. "Tori, just lay down now –"

"I can sleep in your bed?!"

"Yes, Victoria, you can sleep in my bed –"

"Are you gunna sleep with me?"

Max blushes again, pushes Victoria down against her pillow and pulls off her shoes. "I wasn't planning on it –"

"No, pleeeaase, Max – a single is big enough for two and it'll keep us _super_ warm." She giggles.

Max has never heard Victoria giggle before. It's surprisingly cute, but slurred because of the alcohol. "I'll sleep with you if you really want –"

"It's all I want." Victoria says.

"Then budge over." Max says, smiling. She doesn't expect Victoria to actually do it -

But, almost as if she's sober, she does it, and rubs at the open space on the bed with a grin. "I really want to snuggle with you."

Max's whole body feels hot in embarrassment. This is a whole new Victoria – and she is so flirting with Max, and Max doesn't know what to do about it –

So, she just crawls into the bed, and pulls the covers over them both. Victoria immediately snuggles into her side and attaches herself to one of Max's arms, her right leg lazily swinging over Max's two and her head lulling against Max's shoulder.

"You're so warm." Victoria sighs. "You're such a good person, I don't – I don't deserve such a good person."

Max hears Victoria yawn heavily next to her, her hot, intoxicated breath hitting Max's cheek. "Please sleep, Victoria. You're going to regret this in the morning, but I'll take care of you."

Victoria snuggles further into Max's, their bodies entwining into one without Max ever meaning them to. "I know you will, Max." Victoria says. "It's why – it's why I – why I'm so crazy about you."

Max turns off the light. Pretends Victoria didn't just say that –

"I love you, Maxine."

And then Max freezes. She waits – waits until her chest has stopped pounding, her hands have stopped sweating – waits until she can move her eyeballs again – "What did you just say?" Max asks.

But Victoria was already sleeping softly.

She wondered how much Victoria would remember tomorrow, and if there was any chance of an explanation.


	15. Fate

**#15: Fate** \- Max and Victoria look at the stars.

In this one-shot, Victoria knows of Max's powers. The whole thing about time that I mention obviously isn't what Max believes in the game (it could be, who knows?) but it is, essentially, just something I shoved in for my own little fun.

So this one's...okay. I don't know what to make about it. It's typcial, and my writing in it isn't the best, but I still think it's cute because it's Chasefield. What do you think? My only excuse is that I am tired and should be working, haha. .

* * *

"Max," Victoria begins quietly. The two of them stare up into the sky, into the dark of the Earth filled with the twinkling light of stars long since dead, stars that fill the world with a beauty that is so hard to understand, but so easy to recognise. Max and Victoria lie next to one another, their arms brushing, on a purple blanket out on the field, the grass slightly wet but the girls uncaring. "do you believe in fate?"

Max stays silent for a moment. She looks at this colour, at the blacks and blues and shining pearl white of the stars in the sky, thinks about her powers, and the way she can twist the world to how she wants it, distort life and nature and love as much as she wants until the beauty of the world is hers, and the whims of people and their happiness is, much, controlled by her. She thinks of her nosebleeds, and how Kate would be dead if it weren't for her, and her powers.

"Yes," Max says. She is uncertain, for how could such a question be answered so easily? But she says yes, and she sticks with it. "I think what happens to you is fate, I guess. In a way. I like to look at the world as one long stream of events that have already happened – a timeline from the beginning until the end – and that everything we have ever done and said has already been mapped out, even though we said it of our own free will, our own choice. But what I mean is it's already happened, but it also hasn't happened yet."

"You really think time could work like that?" Victoria says, grabbing Max's hand in her own. "I mean, wouldn't that make you like fate? You can decide what happens to so many people here at Blackwell."

Max sighs, feels this sting in her eyes that she ignores. "Yeah –" she replies, her throat clogged. "But is it fate that I was given these powers, and fate that made me preform the actions I have with these powers, or am I just someone who's escaped fate entirely?"

"Or fate just doesn't exist." Victoria replies, squeezing Max's hand. "It's easy to feel guilty when your actions are entirely your own, Max."

Max doesn't look at her. "Are you thinking about Kate?"

"Yes." Victoria says. Her brown eyes look at the half-moon, scanning it for imperfections, but finding none. "If fate does exists, then I was supposed to bully her as I did. If we go by your theory of time being one long event that has already happened, but also has yet to happen, then I was supposed to bully Kate, but only because I had already made the decision to. But –" Victoria sighs heavily, tries to cover it up with a cough. Max pretends she doesn't notice. "if fate doesn't exist, then I almost killed her out of spite. My own resolve."

Max says nothing.

"I don't like the idea that my actions were entirely unjustified like that, Maxine." She tightens her grip on Max's hand, entwines their fingers. "Because that just means I'm a terrible person."

Max shakes her head. "I don't think that." She says. "Because if you're a terrible person for following your own voice, then isn't everyone?"

Victoria scoffs. "But most people don't force a girl up to the roof of a building to die."

Max turns on her side, looks directly at Victoria, who is staring at the sky with apt interest – more interest than she had just a moment ago, and both she and Max know that she's really just trying to avoid Max's eyes. "Most people don't spend their holidays in Malaysia making houses, or donating clothes and money to those less fortunate, either, but does that mean they're bad people? It's all relative, Victoria."

Victoria glances at Max, looks her in the eyes, and then looks back to the sky. She pulls Max into her, wraps an arm around her. Max rests her head against Victoria's shoulder. "That's only if fate doesn't exist, of course."

Max nods. "I think it's easier to believe fate exists because it stops us looking at ourselves as monsters. It gives us a reason to feel better about a bad grade we got, or that person we yelled at."

"Fate is total shit." Victoria says, but it isn't venomous. She sounds certain, confident. "If I'm going to make such shitty decisions, I'm going to make them because I mess up, not because time or fate or God or what-the-fuck-ever tells me to."

Max gives a small laugh, wraps an arm over Victoria's waist. "I think that's probably best." She replies.

"After all, I don't want to think that my feelings for you were made to happen. I like to think that we fell in love ourselves, and worked at it ourselves."

"You're so cheesy." Max says, smiling up at Victoria and noticing the blush that covers her face, even in the darkness of one in the morning.

Victoria puckers her lips in upset. "Shut up." She says. But then she cranes her neck to look down at Max, who's curled into her side, and she smiles, kisses her forehead.

"And, if fate _does_ exist, then that means none of my humour is actually my own, and I just _refuse_ to believe that that is true."

"Oh, God," Victoria replies, a groan in her voice. "I do too – I can't imagine Fate would be so damn awful at jokes, especially pick-up lines."

Max laughs, Victoria laughs.

The two look back at the sky. "So, since you think that fate doesn't exist," Max begins, "do you think that time is just one huge timeline that's already happened, but also hasn't happened yet?"

"Max, it's one in the morning." Victoria says, rubbing at Max's cold arm. She's never been more thankful that it isn't windy, or Max would freeze. "This shit is too deep to get further into."

"That's true." Max replies.

They sit in the silence, looking at the sky. One thing Max loves about Arcadia Bay that she just couldn't get in Seattle, is the silence, followed by maybe the small, distant hoot of an owl, or the rare sound of a car passing down the road. It's quiet, silent almost, but not deserted.

"So," Max begins again. "Do you believe in God?"

Victoria laughs.

"No, Max, I don't believe in God."

"Jesus?"

Victoria shrugs. "I believe he was a person, sure, but the son of God? I can't really believe that since I don't believe in God."

"Do you believe in _any_ Gods?"

"No," Victoria says, "but I do believe that someone very, very cool must exist to think up someone like you."

Max rolls her eyes. "You turn into a total cheeseball past one in the morning."

Victoria smiles so hard she thinks her face will fall off, but acts outraged when she speaks, flicking her free hand into the air in disbelief. "I know! I think it's you Maxine, you've ruined me." And then she keeps her hand there, waving it freely through the sky, her finger tracing over the star signs she can see.

"I haven't finished with you yet, Tori. You haven't even seen the Star Wars prequels, and they are hella awesome. I'll give you credit for seeing the first three though -"

"Those little bear things are adorable, I'll admit." Vic replies, letting her hand fall to her stomach. "But they have the creepiest fucking eyes."

Max rolls over, back onto her back. "Hell yeah! Thank god human eyes aren't like that, I'd look _terrible_. But I don't think _you_ could have creepy eyes if you tried."

"Max, nice try, but I think anyone who had beads for eyes would be pretty fucking creepy."

"Or they'd just look like Nathan Prescott on a good day."

Victoria snorts, hits Max lightly, covers her laugh. "Maxine, I know he can be a little creepy sometimes, a lot more lately, but he's my friend. He's got a lot of shit in his life."

"Everyone does." she replies, not looking too deeply into her own words.

The silence blankets them again, and Max's lips pucker in thought.

Victoria just stares at the moon.

"See, this is why I didn't want to sit out here with you like a hipster at one in the fucking morning, Maxine, because everyone turns into a philosophical asshole past midnight."

"I guess that's Fate's way of telling us to go to bed." Max jokes, looking at Victoria and smiling.

"Well, fuck Fate." Victoria says, rolling on her side and leaning in close. She plants a deep, long kiss on Max's lips, her eyes slipping shut and devouring the darkness. She enjoys the soft feel of Max's lips moving against hers, enjoys how much better Max has got at kissing her after learning what Victoria likes, what Max herself likes, after kissing her so much that the two can do it just as naturally as they can breathing.

They part, Max kisses her again, gently, and then they smile at one another.

Max is breathing heavily. "Fuck Fate, huh?" she says.

Victoria kisses her again. And this time, as she pulls away and her eyes flutter open, she sees a light in the distance. An unnatural light, of a man-made item.

A torch, actually, aimed directly at them, lighting them up to whoever is holding it.

"Hey!" the torch-owner says, angry and gruff.

Max whispers, frantically, pushing Victoria off of her and sitting up. "It's David!"

"Shit!"

"Hey, you two!" he says, the light drawing closer and closer as it bobs up and down. "Curfew's been in place for hours, what the hell are you doing out of bed?!"

The both of them shoot up, Max frantically grabbing at the blanket on the floor and wrapping it clumsily in her arms, before Victoria grabs her hand and the two start running.

"Get back here!" David yells after them, but they're too fast, too quick, and too happy to be caught by him.

They're laughing. Laughing so hard they can barely run, because although there's nothing particularly funny, they're together, and that makes everything more fun. The both of them are running straight back to the dorms, bumping arms and hips and legs along the way, laughing until they're out of breath, starving for it, but they don't stop until they're at the entrances to their rooms, leaning over and panting, hands digging into their hips. Max has one of her hands against the wall, using it for support.

"I think –" Max pants, still smiling. "Fate is tryna – tell us something."

"No – shit – " Victoria replies. "Fuck him."

Max looks at her. "Who?" she asks. "Fate? Or David?"

"Both."

Max laughs again, rubs at her sleepy eyes. Her gut hurts from laughter, she realises, and she is overcome with the overwhelming need to sleep.

"I could sleep, actually." She says.

Victoria nods, stands up straight and hits her back against her door. "Yeah. Do you want to sleep in my bed or yours?"

"Yours." Max replies. "Lemme just get changed –"

"Sure." Victoria says. "I suppose I'll, uh, see you there."

Max opens her door, looks back at her girlfriend, smiles. "You bet." She says. "Fate, apparently, demands it."

Victoria smiles at her. "For once, Maxine, I'm not going to argue."


	16. Embrace It

**#16: Embrace it** \- Max wants to acknowledge what's just happened. Victoria wants to pretend it never did.

* * *

"Victoria." Max says firmly, pulling at the hands that cover Victoria's face, trying to get her brown eyes to meet her own blue. "Victoria."

"No, Max, I don't want to talk about it!"

Max chokes down a laugh by coughing, pretends she hadn't done it though she knows Victoria heard it because Max can practically see her frown even through her hands. She wraps her fingers playfully around Victoria's wrist, pulls at it weakly, but trying, and then soothes it with a kiss afterwards. "Tori…" Max grumbles, letting herself fall back and meet the softness of her duvet. "You don't need to be embarrassed. We've been dating for months, I've seen you topless."

"I'd much rather be topless in front of the entirety of Blackwell than go through what just happened again!"

Max laughs again, can't stop it this time, feels the giggle erupt in her throat. She rubs at her forehead and lets the tips of her fingers tangle in her hair. "Hell _no_ –" Max says, "that'd be soo embarrassing! And I don't want anyone else seeing your boobies." Max pouts, and it earns a laugh from a blushing Victoria, who has gained enough courage, and enough of her self-esteem back, to pull one hand down from her face.

"I'm sorry you feel that way _Maxine."_

"Now you're pulling out the Maxine card? You're harsh Victoria. Didn't know you could get so butt hurt."

Victoria blushes and covers her face again, and it takes a moment for Max to realise why –

But when she does, she bursts out laughing.

"Holy cow –" she laughs. "I didn't even mean to – but that was great –"

"Yeah, yeah." Victoria mumbles in reply, leaning back against the wall with a thump. "It's so not funny."

Max put on her serious face and abruptly sits up. She crawls across the bed to Victoria and then swings one of her legs over the both of hers, straddling her and smiling at her. "Victoria, it's no big deal. Come on – people fart all the time."

" _Don't –"_ she starts, but then she sighs and lets her hands fall from her face, plop into her lap. Max picks them up in her own, fiddles with her fingers. "Look, Max, we've never – done that before, in front of each other, and I was hoping that you, being, like, _less_ elegant than _I_ , would be the one to –"

"Blow the trumpet?"

"Max!"

Max grins at her girlfriend "Tori, take a chill pill." and, shrugging,"You farted, it's no big deal."

"Well it's a big deal to me." Victoria says and frowns.

Max stares at her pouting, sad little face. It's ridiculous she should have to apologise for saying that it's okay that Victoria farted, but she understands _why_ Victoria's upset, in spirit.

"You're right." Max replies with a sigh. "I'm sorry for being insensitive. I can be an ass. "

"Can be?" Victoria replies.

Max smiles at her. "I _am_ an ass. Don't push your luck, Chase."

Victoria pulls Max into her and kisses her firmly on the mouth. "Thank you." she says, and Max waves it away with a flick of her hand.

"Yeah, totally." Max replies, bobbing her head up and down as if to nod, but it is more confused than that, less together than that. More of a circular head wave than a nod. She picks herself off of Victoria and slides next to her instead, resting her back up against the wall, next to her girlfriend, their shoulders at an even height.

"I know you probably had a million puns to say, so thank your little hipster, weirdo mouth for keeping quiet."

Max hums. "Always a pleasure."

Thankful for the end of the conversation and more than eager to move on, Victoria, sighing and beyond grateful, picks her phone off of the bed and unlocks it, sending a quick text to Taylor, who is inquiring about the next Vortex Club party. And then she scrolls through facebook for a moment, letting the silence sink in before it's burst –

"Does this mean I can fart in front of you now?"

Victoria ducks her head in shame, and feels the heat flood her face, once again.


	17. The First

**#17: The First** – Maxine has her first time with Victoria. M rated.

So, I am posting the very thing I said I wasn't good at, and didn't like to post. You got it, people: smut. Oh, gosh, I feel dirty making my babies do this. But I think I still managed to make it cutesy, because I'm kind of made for that when it comes to these two. Anyway, notice I use the word consent. That is what sex – at _least_ the first time - needs, ok? C-O-N-S-E-N-T. It's sexy and, most of all, means you're not raping anyone, and that's always fun. (I'm not funny) Enjoy! :D

* * *

The duvet hits Max's bare back, and at once this feeling fills her: anticipation. Today, she knows, right now, at this moment, this is happening. Victoria, above her, straddling her, kissing her with this soft, zealous passion, her silky hands sliding over the skin of Max's collarbone, tracing along the bone and running down to the space between her breasts –

She stops.

"Is this okay?" Victoria breathes, pulling away from Max for a moment, only slightly, her eyes, big and brown and locked onto Max's, looking to her for permission.

"Yeah." Max whispers. She lets her hand pick itself off of the bed and slide round to the back of Victoria's head, pushes her down to meet her lips again. Victoria, gently, lets her tongue slide into Max's mouth, as it has a million times, but it feels different. Tender, but rich with emotion, and hot with power.

Her hand glides across Max's skin, cups her boob for a moment, lets her thumb stroke at Max's nipple, gently, carefully, confidently, and pinches it lightly. Max feels empowered with emotion and breathes a shaky breath out as they kiss, and Victoria lets herself go a little more, kisses Max a little harder, a little more sure, kisses her like with this strong passion that makes Max's body shiver in anticipation.

Victoria pulls away reluctantly, lifts herself up, her back straight, staring right down at Max with this dark, serious expression on her face, and pulls off her shirt. Max stares at her with lidded eyes, watches as Victoria reaches behind her back, slowly, and unclips her strapless bra. Watches the fabric fall, stares at it on the bed, and then, daringly, lifts her eyes, skims over Victoria bare breasts and pink nipples, and meets Victoria's brown eyes.

"Tori…" Max says, lifts a hand and places it on her hip, plays with the fabric of Victoria lacy pants.

Victoria smiles at her, confidently, sexily, and she falls back towards Max with this slow magnitude and lets her lips meet the soft skin of Max's neck. She kisses it, trails up and bites beneath her ear, at the strong bite of her jaw, licks it. Max inhales, anxiously fumbles her hands around, unsure of where to put them, what to do, and lets her emotions take over - her hand grips at her covers, bunch it up, and the other rubs at the back of Victoria's neck.

She feels her legs squirm at staying still for so long, feels this impatient tingling, heat, an undeniable need thumping in her core. Exhales, quickly, when Victoria breathes into her ear – "Are you ready?" - and Max, as she tries to speak, only moans when Victoria bites at her earlobe, and then simply nods, almost viciously, in consent.

Victoria looks at Max, slides down her body and plays with Max's boxer shorts. Max watches her, entranced, anxious. "Are you sure?" Victoria says. Her eyes are dark and her pupils are wide, her fingers are twitching with a need to continue, but she is patient.

"Yeah –" Max replies, doesn't notice the low note her voice takes. "I really –" she swallows, her throat dry. "I really want this."

"Fuck," Victoria says. She pulls at Max's pants, and Max lift her lips to help Victoria pull them down. Victoria doesn't stare at Max, bare before her. Instead, she looks in Max's eyes, smiles, and says "be patient with me, okay? I'm new to – well – _this_."

And Max gives a lazy smile in reply, nods gently, watches as Victoria, slowly, lets her hand reach between her legs and the first contact Max makes shiver in delight. It's barely there, but Max can feel it, feels as Victoria thumbs at her clit, lets her finger circle it, and then lets one enter Max. Max groans, feels herself squeeze around Victoria, but there's not enough, not enough of her, but when Victoria lowers her head, next, and lets her lips reach Max's clit, she knows that she is in heaven.

Victoria sucks at her clit, gently, and lets her tongue stroke it, taste her, feels Max throb under her touch, and then pulls her finger out, savours the whimper Max gives her, and, instead, lets her tongue explore the length of Max. She swirls around her clit, sucks it, bites it gently, looks to see if Max likes that, and treasures the sight of Max panting, her hand lazily on her forehead and her other squeezing at her breast.

"Tori," she says, and Victoria grows more confident. Her tongue plays with Max, enjoys how wet she is, the taste of her, and lets her tongue lick at Max's entrance before dipping in, loves when Max grips at the back of her head and gently pushes her further. Smiles when Max lets out a deep, long, throaty moan.

She pulls out, for a moment, licks her own lips and savours the taste, and then slowly lets a finger replace her tongue with a slow rhythm, constant and gentle, and then Max's back is arching and Victoria is entering another finger, letting her eager lips meet the swell of Max's wet clit again and sucking on it, harder, and increasing the speed of her fingers, her other hand gripping at Max's hip to keep her grounded.

"Tori –" Max says again, a croak. She's close, Victoria thinks, feels the steady pulsing of her clit and the tightened grip on the back of her head-

Searches inside of Max for that one sweet spot, and when Max gasps as she grazes this one part inside of her – she knows she has found it, and quickly adjusts her pattern, her movements, her form, to hit that spot with every deep thrust inside of her, loves the sound – not a moan, not a squeak, breathy and full – that Max makes whenever she hits it, feels her speed increasing and her mind overload with warmth and lust and feels the insides of her tingle at the sight of Max unravelling before her, clutching so desperately at the mattress, loves the beads of sweat on her forehead, her body.

"I think I'm – I'm so _close,_ Tori."

That one sentence bring Max's undone. She orgasms, and Victoria lets her ride it out, keeps her fingers in until Max is still and panting, her eyes closed and a lazy smile on her face. Victoria, gently, pulls out her fingers, bring them to her lips, and licks them clean, slowly. The taste isn't something she's used to, but it's something she is already addicted to.

"That was – great." Max says, her eyes still closed. Victoria, satisfied to have done a good job, crawls up to her sleepy girlfriend, pulls her into her arms and kisses her. She can still taste Max on her lips, wonders if Max can taste it, too, and then pulls back. She looks Max, in her beautiful blue eyes, lazy and glazed, and bops her nose with a finger.

"I'm glad." Victoria replies. "I didn't want to suck your first time –"

"Damn, Tori, you – you didn't suck."

She smiles again, pecks Max on the lips. "Good."

They stare at each other for a moment.

And then, Max smiles.

"I believe I owe you something." Is what she says, before she lets her greedy lips kiss Victoria again.


	18. Sober

**#18: Sober –** Max has a little talk with Victoria after her drunken escapades.

I had a request for the morning after #14 'Drunk', and I am more than happy to oblige! Thanks for all the favourites, follows and reviews thus far, they keep me going and I seriously love them, they make me super happy. :)

* * *

When Victoria wakes up, it takes her a moment to recognise where she is. With her eyes closed she feels like she's spinning, round and round, unstopping, and the sensation makes her feel so sick, makes her eyes feels so out of place, dizzy, that they snap open with a blurry clarity. The light in the room is horrible for her sight. So horrible, she groans, slaps a hand lazily to her forehead to cover it from her eyes, and they immediately bunch into a squint.

It is then, she realises, at a glance, she is not in her room.

She is in Max's.

And the memories, although distant, although blurry and of some other reality, are there. They are there, and it murders her to watch her drunken self unfold before Max, tell her that she's pretty, that her photography is good, that she's kind and that – that Victoria wants to _sleep_ with her –

She pulls the covers completely over her head, however, when she remembers that she had told Max she loved her. It is unclear if Victoria had actually said it, unclear if this is her imagination or some sick little trick her drunk mind had played on her, but, either way, she feels her gut cry out in regret – regret of what she had done, and of the alcohol she had consumed. It is horrible, Victoria thinks, to feel your stomach cramp with the toxins of alcohol, but even worse when it is cramped with anxiety on top of this.

With the covers over her, Victoria is encapsulated in darkness. She cannot see, hopes the images will go away, relishes that no one can see her blushing face –

Takes a deep breath in. The covers smell of Max. It relaxes her, but she wishes it wouldn't.

Max is the cause of this. She's why Victoria feels so uncomfortable right now, hating herself, hating what she has done, panicked and terrified that this blurry, distant memory, this dark swell in her brain, is actually _true,_ and that she had told Maxine these things –

But she knows that it isn't Max's fault. It's her own fault for getting very drunk, and her own fault for, in her drunken consciousness, knocking on Maxine's door late at night.

She wishes she hadn't done it – hopes she hadn't, begs with whatever God will hear her that she didn't as she clings to Max's covers.

And then, in a moment of horrid realisation, she realises that Max isn't with her.

A good or a bad thing? Good or bad – good or bad?

Could the pounding in her head stop for a moment, give her a second to breath? She feels enclosed and small, but her heart feels large like it has swelled and her throat feels choked with insecurity, and most likely strained from the alcohol.

Victoria pulls her head out from the covers.

She puts it back under when she sees Max is now in the room, looking at her.

"What do you _want,_ Maxine?" she says, blushing and so incredibly happy that she is hidden right now.

"I brought you some water." Max replies. "And some medicine. I thought you would need it, after last night."

She doesn't just _need_ it, she craves it. She wants it so badly she thinks her body will pull herself from under her covers, reach out and take it, with or without her consent. But she stays under. She will not meet those bright, happy blue eyes and admit to them the things she had done, because they are too good for her to intrude upon –

"I figured you'd be feeling pretty crap after last night?"

Victoria feels her muscles tense. She speaks, but her voice is hoarse, and it takes far more effort than it should. "What? Crap? Why – why would I feel crap about last night, Maxine, it isn't as if I said anything stupid –" she feels the croak in her throat, and begins to cough. The covers collapse on top of her, and as her body, exhausted, jolts with every sharp cough, she knows she needs the water very, very badly.

So, she braves it. Or she goes to, at least, but Max beats her to it – throws the covers off of her and hands Victoria the water. Victoria takes small sips of the drink, her stomach too fucked to swallow too much water at a time. She does not look at Max. If she looks at Max, who knows what she could see? See a girl, laughing at her, finally finding a reason to disgrace her – or see a girl, pitying her, a stupid little look in her eyes because she feels bad that she doesn't return Victoria's feelings – or, worse, will she see Maxine with no look at all? Will Max have taken her drunken ramblings seriously, or thrown them aside as just that?

Did Victoria even tell Max that she loved her? It was a bit strong to call it _love –_

But then, against her wishes, the sanity of her mind, the exhaust of her body, the beating of her heart, she looks at Max.

And all she sees is a girl who is worried about her, frowning slightly, holding out two little white tablets for Victoria.

And Victoria feels her heart ache.

"Thanks." Says Victoria, pushing aside her pride, her worry, her very instincts. She takes the tablet from Max, shoves one in her mouth, kicks back some water, and then swallows the second.

"It's not a problem." Max replies, and she takes a seat on the edge of her bed, away from Victoria, nervously playing with her hands and pulling at her fingers. Max is staring away from her. Victoria feels nauseous. "And I just meant because of your drinking. Not because - because of the stuff you said. I just wouldn't just leave you alone."

"No?" Victoria says. "You don't trust me in your room, alone in your bed?"

Max blushes and looks out towards her window, trying to hide it. But Victoria sees it, see it and for a moment feels panicked that that actually _is_ why she wouldn't leave her alone –

But then Max mumbles something that makes her feel warm inside. "No – I – I like you in my bed." And blushes harder.

Victoria remembers last night, and feels her own face grow hot as well. She'd asked Max if she'd liked her in her bed, and, now, apparently, had her answer. And then it dawns on her.

 _Oh God._

She feels herself get hotter, feel sicker, more nauseous, feels her hands grow clammy and her ears grow pink, her heart grow erratic. "I didn't imagine it?" she whispers, slowly, fastly, loudly, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What part?" is Max's reply.

"All of it." Victoria rushes. "The compliments, the hugging, the – the flirting and the –" Victoria pauses. Swallows animatedly – looks at Max who is looking at her, blushing so red her face is fiery, but is _still_ looking at her with her cool eyes – "the _I love you_." she whispers.

Max jumps slightly at the words, looks away. "Yeah," she says, trying to hit the nonchalant tone but her voice is shaking. "you did say - _that_ – I mean, that did happen."

Victoria slumps her shoulders, pushes her cup to her lips and drinks, little by little, just so she has something to do. Something to focus on besides the awkwardness of the moment, and the churning in her stomach. She focuses on the water that is tasteless but not without taste, focuses on swallowing as little as possible to make it last –

She pulls the cup away, swallows her water too harshly. "I didn't – I didn't _mean_ it." She says, feeling like she'd just kicked herself in the shin with the words.

"Right." Max replies. She laughs, half-heartedly, shakily, stands, shakes her head. Looks at Victoria with this weird smile. "No, no, I know you didn't. Of course you didn't."

Victoria feels wounded. Feels as if she's wounded Max, as well, though she hasn't a clue why. Max just looks like she's hurt –

And that is when the second realisation hits her, and it is so fast and is so much to absorb that she barely has enough time to take a breath, and by that point Max has the door open and Victoria is standing so fast she thinks she'll throw up –

But she grabs Max's wrist, turns her to face her. Max does not look at her face.

"Maxine." Victoria says, trying not to sound like she might puke up half a liquor store. "Don't – don't leave."

She recognises the vulnerability in her voice. Makes the conscious choice to let it stay.

"Maxine, I don't mean that – I mean, I didn't mean what I just said, then, but I _do_ mean what I said to you last night, no matter how drunk I was –" she blushes, looks down to her hand, holding Max's wrist, grips it a little more desperately. "I _do_ – I mean I do have – musings –" she frowns and her mouth opens and closes again, unable to get the words out. She tries, tries so hard _you have no idea_ to say the words seriously. But she is not used to exposing herself so much, and so she fails to keep that bitchy, protective voice from slipping from her mouth. "I do have feelings for you, is – is what I'm trying to say like some fucking idiot."

Max stays looking at the floor. Victoria doesn't drop Max's wrist, thinks she probably should, but Max doesn't try to escape from the hold so she keeps it selfishly in her hand. They stand there, still but shuffling, and Victoria really wants to know what Max is thinking, where she's looking, if her lips are smiling, if her eyes are bright, if she is frowning with the cute little frown line between her eyebrows –

"I'm sorry." Victoria mumbles, defeated, letting her shoulders slump. She lets Max's wrist slip from her grip. Gives her the choice to leave. As if, Victoria thinks, as if Max would want her after the things she's done.

"It's okay." Max replies. Victoria watches as her hand reaches out, grabs at her own hand loosely, and Max keeps it there. Her hands are warm, and Victoria's boiling, so although it is uncomfortable Victoria deals with it, because it is _Max_ that is touching her, and her fingertips are soft and she is still here. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

And Victoria looks up to meet her. Her lips are twitching into what Victoria hopes is a smile. "Because." Victoria says, searches her brain for an answer. "Because you're you and I'm me, and there are different standards and different things expected of both of us."

Max frowns a little, but then she pulls at Victoria's hand a little, makes her come forward. She still feels sick, but deals with it as a welcome friend, because alcohol is what allowed her to get so close to Max. "But I –" Max begins, and then she shakes her head, looks down with a smile, and huffs a laugh. "I like you, too."

Victoria freezes. "what?" she says, her mouth numb. "How the fu – flip do you like me?" she asks. "I am fucking horrible to you!"

Victoria doesn't want to swear at such an intimate time, an intimate moment. But it's her, so it proves hard enough for her to want to quit swearing altogether.

"Because." Max replies, and Victoria smiles because now the situation is reversed. "You're really gorgeous, and although you were mean to me, you were mean to a lot of people, and with me, you always _changed_ when your groupies – I mean, uh, friends – weren't around. And when we were alone, like that time in the dark room, you were funny, and sweet, and you made me smile. I'm not saying my, uh, feelings were instant – they were very slow, and crept up on me like a cheetah, but they're there." Max smiles. "And I don't think they're going to go away anytime soon."

"Right." Victoria says, dumbfounded.

"Right." Max replies, teasingly.

"Yeah." Victoria slumps back onto Max's bed, her legs weak either with illness or love or maybe the two together – "Well I guess, Maxine, I'll, uh, I'll – ask you out sometime?"

Max nods. "That sounds great."

"Well okay." Victoria says. "Okay. I'll – I'll do just that."

"I look forward to it."

Victoria gives a dazed nod, stands, collects her things off of the floor, does a quick three-sixty of the room to see if she's forgotten anything (and also to give her an excuse to look away from Max) and then nods again. She walks to the door, her heels in her hands. Presses her palm to the doorway, looks back at Max.

"Thank you, Maxine." She says. "For – looking after me."

Max smiles. "You're welcome here for all your drunken escapades, Tori."

Victoria's flushes at the nickname. "Right." She mumbles, turning around and walking out the door. "I'll, uh – thanks."

She walks the short distance across the hall, opens her door, looks back to Max who is watching her with a smile, waves awkwardly at her, enters her room and shuts the door.

Victoria smiles, drops her shoes and squeals, her hands bunching up into fists and her feet pounding against the floor in excitement. And then she collapses against the door in exhaustion – both from the alcohol, and from her emotions – and cannot get the grin to wipe off her face.

She had a feeling that this hangover would be the best one yet.


	19. Victoria in the Dark Room

**#19: Victoria in the Dark Room** – Max wakes up one morning to witness the repercussions of a Vortex Club party from the previous night.

SO I had this idea because I'm a terrible person. Certainly not my best work, but also not my worst. **AU** where Max has no powers, and girls are still going missing.

* * *

Max wakes up in the morning, met with complete silence. Even in her own bedroom, she can feel the regret of the girls in the dorm as if it were her own, their hangovers and bad decisions carrying on to today from the Vortex Club party yesterday night.

 _Regrets,_ Max thinks, _they should have plenty_. After their last little party had caused the death of Kate, Max hates to think what could have gone on last night.

She doesn't feel particularly happy. There is something heavy looming over the dorms, over Blackwell, something unseeable and ungodly, but wholly there. Max can feel it, feel it down to her shivering bones, and it is frightening. She thinks she's just being silly, figures she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. It's easy to do when your friend just killed themselves a few days ago.

So Max gets up, rubs at her eyes in hopes of rubbing the tired, heavy feeling from her face. She grabs her toothbrush and pulls herself from her room and down the hall, to the bathroom. Her chest is almost hurting, certainly burning, with this horrible sense of dread. Something is wrong. Something isn't right, she knows, but something is never right after a Vortex Club party.

She swings open the door to the bathroom with an uncaring push of her hand, and slowly walks into the room. She'd forgot to put slippers on, so the tiles are cold beneath her feet.

Max makes her way over to a mirror, the same one where Victoria had written the link to Kate's video in gross, blinding red lipstick. She stares at herself in it. Her skin is a little paler than it normally is, the bags under her eyes a little heavier, her hair a little messier than usual, her sharp blue eyes now dull and uncoloured. Max wets her toothbrush, squirts her toothpaste across it, wets it again. Just as she is bringing it to her mouth, Taylor and Courtney enter.

They don't pay her any attention, but rather check their hungover appearances in the mirror – Max notices the creases on their faces, worry or disgust? – and then turn towards one another.

"I could have sworn Nathan said he'd take Victoria home last night?"

Max's heart stops. She keeps her toothbrush moving, but now it is slack and slow, staring at the two girls through the mirror.

"Totally." Courtney replies. Her voice is different, sounds different, has this high-pitched sort of worry concealed within it, and a low overtone of hate, panic, regret? She is trying to disguise it, pretend it isn't there, Max can hear her trying. The way her mouth moves doesn't fit the words she is saying, like audio and video out of sync. "But, like, Taylor – no one has seen her. Nathan is saying he never _gave_ her a lift, she isn't in her room or class and –"

" _Don't_ , Courtney." Taylor raises her hand, turns away from Courtney. "She probably just found some hot guy, went back to his dorm room. She's probably with Zachary."

"But she's _not."_ Courtney replies. "She's _not,_ Taylor, we already asked!"

"Well she can't just be fucking gone!" Taylor yells. She balls her hand into a fist, hits it against the egg-white metal of the sink. Her voice is a cry. "She's my – she's my best _friend,_ Court, she's not gone –"

"Taylor –"

Courtney takes a step forward, a hand out, an attempt to comfort her. Taylor swats her away. Her make up is running, her face is warped, her mouth is trembling. Her body is slouched, the usual confidence and proud posture, gone.

"She's fucking _gone,_ Courtney!" Taylor cries, waving her hands around with a need to do _something,_ walking erratically back and forth, her body twitching with unsettled feelings. "No one has seen her since last night – and you fucking know what happened to the last person to go missing at a Vortex Club party, Courtney, she fucking _killed_ herself."

Max's toothbrush falls out of her mouth, lands in the sink with a clatter. Numbly, she spits out her toothpaste, wipes her mouth. Taylor and Courtney stare at her now.

"Max!" Taylor says. She's shaking, but at the recognition of Max she is trying to compose herself, appear normal and happy and bitchy like usual, but she cannot do it. Max stares at her vacantly, her lips quivering with horror, disbelief, her mind pierced with thought after thought after thought –

"I'm sure Victoria's okay, Max." Courtney says. "And – and I'm _sure_ she didn't go get with some guy, like Taylor said. We're just worried about her –"

"Victoria –" Taylor wipes at her eyes. She's crying again, trying so hard not to. Trying so hard that Max thinks with some bitterness that it's pathetic – when Kate died, Max let herself cry all she fucking wanted. Now Victoria – Victoria's _gone,_ what will she do?

Her girlfriend is fucking missing, and she had _promised_ Max that she wouldn't get drunk –

"Victoria really loves you." Taylor finishes. "She does – I – I'm sorry I said that I just –"

"It's fine." Max says. She picks up her toothbrush, clutches it in her hand tightly. She sombrely walks towards them, stops in front of them. "Can I get past?" she asks.

They part immediately.

Max passes them.

She leaves the bathroom. Everyone is still in their rooms. The hall is empty. Max walks down it, slow, steady, feels her finger tap impatiently against her thigh as she walks. She stops when she reaches the middle space between her room at Victoria's, at the end of the hall. She turns left, not right, _left_ , and opens the door.

She makes her way into the room. She looks around – the photo montage, now with several of Victoria, smiling, and Max next to her. One of them kissing. She looks at the perfectly arranged desk, the made bed, the giant posters on the wall – looks at it all, this room, and feels her face curl in sorrow. Collapses onto Victoria's bed. Wraps herself in the covers.

Her legs creep up and meet her chest, her arms wrap so tightly around them that it's painful, her hand grips at her wrist so tightly it turns white, her head slouching into her knees. Max feels herself cry, each tear heavy with a part of her soul – her mind, body, empties with every tear that leaves her. First Kate – now Victoria – then who? Who else did she have left for them to take from her?

Max head rests against Victoria's duvet. It smells clean, like lavender.

She hears the door open.

She looks up –

It's Taylor.

"I'm sorry, Max." she says, slumping down on the bed next to her. "I'm so _fucking_ sorry – I don't know what happened, she didn't even have that much to drink and – and she was just _out_ of it. I should have watched her–"

"It's okay." Max mumbles. Her body feels so cold, so numb and tingly.

"I swear to you, Max, I only saw her have one glass of wine. She told me she wasn't drinking because you'd asked her not to –"

Max jolts. Unfolds from herself. Stares at Taylor with these empty, cold eyes, now sparking with possibilities. "One glass of wine?"

"Yes!" Taylor replies. "She got totally out of it after that I – I don't know what fucking happ –"

Taylor seems to reach the same conclusion that Max has. She burst out crying again. "Shit!" she cries, shaking her head back and forth, like it's not possible, like it hasn't happened before, like the Vortex parties aren't fucking evil – "She was – shit, Max, she – she was fucking _drugged?"_ her voice breaks. "Do you think that's possible?"

"Kate was drugged." Max replies. She feels sober now, with thought, but numb with sadness. "She said she was taken somewhere white and bright, and woke up the next day feeling disgusting. She was purposely drugged, taken somewhere."

"So Victoria could come back!?"

Max clenches her jaw. She stares at Taylor: Taylor, with her wide, hopeful eyes, running black mascara and quivering lips. She stares at a girl so hopeful for possibilities, so broken knowing they might not come.

"Yes." Max says, hoarse. Her voice cracks, breaks, her eyes dark, but she says this lie, this hopeful, ignorant plea, because Taylor needs to believe this. Max hates herself for saying it. "She could come back." She hesitates, wonders if she should say what she's about the say, wonder if she should presume like this. Says it anyway. "But if she does, she won't be the same. She'll - she might be like Kate." Max feels the tears well in her eyes, her throat swell. "She'll want to die."

Taylors head falls in her hands. "What do we do?" she squeaks.

Max looks away. She stands, hands into fists, looks around the room. And then she looks at the montage on the wall. She walks to it. She stares at the photo of Victoria down the beach, Victoria wearing overly-flashy sunglasses that were too big for her face, pouting jokingly, and Max, kissing her cheek. Max reaches out, thumbs it, pulls it off of the wall.

"We find her." Max replies, folding the picture into her hand.


	20. Between Us

**#20: Between us** \- Max and Victoria made an agreement: whatever happens in the dark room, stays there.

Check out my new Chasefield story: 'The Reverse of Imperfections' which I will try to update weekly! Here's a small synopsis:

Max can reverse time. She realises this one mundane photography lesson, when her camera breaks and she saves its life. Slowly, Max realises she can do what others cannot: get the best outcome in every aspect of her life, and help others along the way. But with the ability to make everything how she wants it to be, to redo and redo as many times as she wants, Max is becoming obsessed with perfection. There's only one person who can save Max from herself, only one person who is unaffected by her time travel and the _only_ person Max wishes it affected: Victoria Chase.

* * *

"Whatever happens between us stays in this room."

That's what they had agreed on or, rather, Victoria had said it and Max had nodded along, simply because she wanted Victoria – wanted her in public, secret if she had to, wanted her desperately despite any doubts she may have had.

At least, that's what Max had told herself.

Now, in this dark room, this small room where life develops before your eyes, Max feels lonely. She feels this ache in her chest, large, consuming, a black mark on her skin. And it's so conflicting, because Victoria's lips are soft and skilled, and as she pushes Max against the wall, kisses her deeply, grabs at Max's wrists and shoves them painfully above her head and holds her there, Max feels herself getting lost in it all again – the deep, fragile but ultimately bruising way that Victoria touches her, and how it sends these soothing, unbearable jolts of feeling down to her abdomen and between her legs.

She loves how Victoria bites at her neck, just below her jaw, kisses at it, leaves a mark, growls in satisfaction when she sees it in the low red light, and then does it again, harder, pushes Max so hard against the wall and then slides her leg between the two of Max's, and Max moans in, partly, relief. She loves how Victoria will kiss her and look at her with these wild, lustful eyes, wanting to claim more but having already touched every little part of Max, and how she'll kiss Max, again, and then pull back. She'll stare into Max's own diluted, dark eyes, eyes pleading for some release but begging for the torture, and then Victoria will smile. And it's so delicate, so unlike Victoria, it makes Max melt.

So, it is conflicting. Because the room is dark, and so is their secret, but Victoria's smile is so bright.

Max wonders if she can go on pretending; pretending that she has no feelings for this blonde vixen, this beautiful complication.

But, just as quickly as it came, that smile on Victoria's face will disappear and she'll look away from Max's eyes, push her up onto the table and slide off her trousers, her pants, just as easily as water would flow between Victoria's fingertips, and she'll put two fingers inside of Max and claim her completely.

And they'll have sex, try to restrain the sound but in vain, and both of them will fuck each other until there's nothing left to give. And then they'll sit there for a moment. Victoria will look at Max, next to her, who's looking back, and then Victoria will reach out, grip at Max's chin with her thumb and index finger, kiss her so softly, so unlike she usually does, and smile when they part. There'll be this deep, whimsical look in her eyes, passionate but not intense, it's gentle, and they'll look at each other for a moment. Max will feel the steady increase of her pounding heart, her sweaty, naked chest rising and falling as she stares at Victoria who is looking only at her, and Max will give the smallest of smiles back, worried of scaring her off.

It's never the smile that scares Victoria off.

Max doesn't know what it is but she watches it happen every time, and it is so heart-breaking to see this unclear, unknown fog, this weird tenderness in Victoria's eyes, slowly clear. Max watches it happen each time. Max sees the sudden fluttering of Victoria's eyes, the focus of her eyes returning, the way her smile slowly falls from her face and she looks away from Max, almost scared, and then she'll abruptly swing herself up, stand, shove on her dress or skirt or trousers or whatever she's wearing that day, sort out her hair, check her make up, and then pick up her bag. She'll look at Max will this almost forced nonchalance and shrug. "That was fun, Maxine, I'll guess we'll do it again sometime. Cover up those marks before you leave."

And Max, as always, will feel her hand touch at the tender spots on her neck, and Victoria will leave without looking back, that confident little sway in her steps.

Max will get dressed. She'll pull a tube of concealer out of her bag and cover up the hickies, not love bites, because they were not made with love, and then she'll collapse against the table, sigh. She'll look at all the pictures still in the room, those developing, those already developed, and feel this emptiness in her chest. She'll smile, drop her head into her hand, grab at the roots of her hair.

She'll think that they need a better place to do this than some dark room, regardless of the beautiful photography, the intimacy of people's perceptions, viewpoints, ideas. She'll think that it's a bad idea to do it in here, because they'll get caught. One day.

Max wonders if this room is a good idea.

And then she'll decide that it isn't the room that's the problem, it's her. It's her staring at these pictures, undeveloped, developed, and thinking of all the things they might turn out to be, all the photos she could take with Victoria: selfies down the beach, their future memories: holiday pictures, birthdays, anniversaries, their wedding…

Max wonders about all the things they could be, but never the thing that they are.

She'll lower her hand from her head, feel the tears in her eyes. She'll compose herself almost immediately, and then she'll leave.

There won't be any evidence of what they've done together except for the dark marks on her neck, and the darker mark wallowing in her chest, unable to be healed or covered like the rest, no matter how hard Max tries.


	21. Power

**#21: Power** \- Max tells her friend Victoria about her powers in exactly the same way as she told Chloe. Well... not _exactly_ the same.

Just a quick something I knocked up whilst working on the next chapter of The Reverse of Imperfections. I hope this is okay! :)

* * *

"Maxine, if you think I'm going to believe you, you're absolutely insane." Victoria shakes her head at Max, again and again, this smile on her face that isn't one of amusement. It's more like – worry, maybe, but not really – more like this weariness, maybe uncertainly. Maybe it is amusement. Maybe it's curiosity. Max doesn't know, but it is a smile. It doesn't do much for Max's confidence, not just because it makes her insides boil with these feelings she doesn't want (feelings she shouldn't be having for her best friend, but feelings that are there nonetheless) but because it shows it's going to take a lot more than words to convince Victoria.

"I know it's crazy." Max says. She stares into Vic's big brown eyes, eyes that stare at her worriedly, and she feels her left hand twitch, almost in anticipation, but more so nervousness. "Look – I – I know it's _difficult_ to believe, but I know how to convince you. It was the same way I convinced Chloe."

"Oh, right, lump me and the desperate blue punk together."

Max gives Victoria dry look.

Victoria actually looks sorry, squirms in apology. "Sorry." She says. "But, seriously, Maxine, if you expected me to believe that you can actually rewind time, then I'm thinking that some big men in some fancy ass suits are going to come through that door and wipe my memory."

Victoria points at Max's door, her finger uncertain and wonky.

The two are sat on Max's bed. Victoria faces Max who is nearer to the door, her leg hung off the edge, whilst Max looks confidently at Victoria, who is sat rigidly in front of the cd-player.

"I can!" Max replies. She takes Victoria's hand in her own. Doesn't notice how tense Victoria's hand is. "I'll prove it, Tori, just give me a chance."

Victoria can never say fucking no to those damn little puppy dog eyes Max's has. Deep and blue and utterly unfair, Victoria tries to play hard to get.

She weighs out her options. She knows she had nothing to lose, really, except maybe her friend's sanity but if that's the case it's already gone. They stare at each other evenly, silently, both waiting for the other to back down. Max doesn't, and Max usually backs down when this happens. It makes Victoria want to believe her, so she gives a singular nod in consent.

"How?" she asks.

"Easy." Max replies, now smiling. "I'm going to tell you what your next move is. But, err, first, do or say something that I wouldn't expect or know, right now."

"Okay, I get it." Victoria replies. She understands, now. If this _is_ true, which Victoria is not saying it _is,_ but if it is then Max has to know what it is first, and then she can 'rewind time' and tell Victoria what it is before she does it.

Only, they're best friends. What can she do that Max wouldn't be able to guess?

What she can do, what she really wants to do, is at the very front of her mind. But if Max is a liar or a psychopath, then what she's going to do will make her totally vulnerable to Maxine – the cat will be out of the bag. But if Maxine can rewind time…

Then she's still pretty much screwed in terms of her secret. Max will say it to her face.

But, shit, she wants to. She wants to so badly, it sends the blood pumping through her veins, sends anxious jolts to her heart, makes Max seem so much closer than she is. Her lips so much closer –

Except that they are closer, because Victoria has leaned in so slowly she almost hadn't moved. She feels her nose stroke gently against Max's and how tight and tense her body is, maybe in want, maybe in anxiety, maybe in disbelief. And Victoria kisses her. Their lips connect gently but firmly, and Victoria lets her hands slide up Max's neck and hold either side of her head. But the kiss is only for a moment, only a test, yet the air around them suddenly feels so magnetised towards them, like an oxygen high. Only she's actually high off of Max, and that alone is weird to think.

So, when she pulls back, lets her eyes flutter open, Victoria doesn't know what to make of the fact that Max's eyes are still closed. All she can really register is the tingle of her lips, and how Max takes a deep breath in and lifts up her hand -

* * *

"Okay, I get it." Victoria says. She understands, now. If this _is_ true, which Victoria is not saying it _is,_ but if it is then Max has to know what it is first, and then she can 'rewind time' and tell Victoria what it is before she does it.

Only, they're best friends. What can she do that Max wouldn't be able to guess?

What she can do, what she really wants to do, is at the very front of her mind. But if Max is a liar or a psychopath, then what she's going to do will make her totally vulnerable to Maxine – the cat will be out of the bag. But if Maxine can rewind time…

Then she's still pretty much screwed in terms of her secret. Max will say it to her face.

"Do that again." Max interrupts, staring at her wildly, leaning forward and desperately grabbing at Victoria's hand.

Victoria is confused, shocked, lets herself be pulled forward by Max – "do what?" she asks.

"Kiss me, do it again."

Victoria freezes. Her eyes widen in realisation, her breathing quickens, shortens, grows panicked. She stares at this girl and the pieces fall in to place. Stares at Max, right into her eyes. They're so close together it's almost hard, but, shit, Max looks so desperate right now that Victoria can't stop looking –

"You actually _can_ rewin –"

"Yeah –"

Max pulls Victoria into her fully, lets their lips crash together. Victoria gives a sort of yelp – a moan, a sigh, but not really either it's too high-pitched to be – but wraps her arms around Max and grips at her stupid deer t-shirt like her life depends on it. She pulls Max into her, onto her lap, lets the kiss grow messy and untamed, their lips colliding amongst the chaos.

"You're – magic –" she breathes between kisses.

"uhuh." Max replies.

Her hands go to Victoria's hair, and her head lulls back in complete relaxation. Shit, it feels too good and Max is a good kisser and she can rewind time and, shit, Victoria wants more of this, craves it, feels a throbbing in her abdomen because she's always been a sucker for passion –

"Maxine."

Max ignores her, gets surprisingly dominant and lets her tongue swipe itself against Victoria's mouth, pushes inside when Victoria moans and claws at Max's back -

" _Maxine_ –" Victoria says, more forceful this time as she rips Max off of her, rather regretfully. "We have to talk about your powers –"

Max looks at her with a wonky smile, her lips red and gorgeous and _wow_ , and animatedly shrugs. "Do we though?"

And Victoria thinks about it. What was there to talk about? Her friend could rewind time, simple as, and also happened to like kissing her.

So, maybe the kissing thing needed to be explained, but was this the time for that?

"No," Victoria replies, pulling Max into her again. "It can wait."

Desperately, their lips join again.


	22. Birthday Surprise

**#22: Birthday Surprise** \- It's Max's birthday and after a lovely date, Victoria and Max come home to Max's dorm room expecting to be alone. They are not.

To **Jayzuhn** who asked for a one-shot celebrating Max's birthday! You asked, I happily delivered! But seriously it was a lot of fun writing this. Any more requests and I'll do 'em until my eyeballs burn.

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"Shut _up_ guys, I think they're coming!"

That is the first thing Max hears when she gets to the front of her dorm room.

It is so small, a whisper, that Max thinks she may have imagined it. It would have been an easy thing to do - ever since she and Victoria got back from their date Victoria has been acting weird. Nervous. It is highly possible Max was imagining the voice. After all, Victoria still hasn't given Max her present (not that Max expects one) so it's possible she is nervous about that.

But, just to check, she turns towards Victoria with a dubious look on her face and a raised eyebrow – a look that states she knows Victoria's up to something but is careful not to pin anything on her for sure.

"I told you I didn't want a party."

Victoria, next to her, shrugs sheepishly at Max, and Max stares back with a dry look on her face.

"What? Party?" Victoria says. She scoffs and shuffles her feet. Her lips purse. "I didn't throw you a party, Maxine, you told me you just wanted a date. I've just given you a date. That's all. Jesus, don't expect so much of me, weirdo."

"Oh, you're pulling out the name calling again?" Max replies, clutching at Victoria's leather jacket and gathering her close. Immediately, Victoria's arms reach up and rest on Max's shoulders, her hands looping around to the back of Max's head trailing patterns with her fingers. It's so soft a feeling it sends a tingling sensation all around the back of Max's head. She lulls backwards.

"Damn right I am." Victoria takes a step forward, forces Max to take a step back. Does it again. Max's back hits the door with a low thump. They stare at each other, their eyes burning with a defiance for one another as Victoria dips down her head and lets their noses touch. "I love the look you get in your eyes when I call you Maxine. It's… primitive."

"Oh?" Max replies. She feels her chest pounding at the look in Victoria's eyes. Max hates it when Victoria calls her Maxine because she hates the name, but… she loves it when Victoria calls her Maxine, because it sounds so damn _sexy_ coming out of her mouth. Victoria licks her lips, looks down to Max's.

It's a look that sends a quivering breath from Max's throat, and suddenly Victoria's mouth is on hers, her hair bunched into Victoria's fists as the two kiss. Victoria is relentless in pushing her against the door, in biting down, softly, on Max's lips until Max finally cracks and her mouth opens with a low, throaty moan that Victoria captures in a deep kiss and the swipe of her tongue as it pushes into Max's mouth.

And then Max feels a slim leg slide up between the two of hers, reach up until it hits it hits the place Max's craves it more than she expected and moans again, deeper –

And then she is falling backwards, Victoria with her, on top of her, and the two land on the floor with an 'omph!'

"Victoria!" Max squeals, her face going red.

Victoria, on top of her, pushes herself up and looks around her. "Goddammit," she says, looking at the culprits around her. She hits away Courtney's offered hand and stands, brushes herself off before holding a hand out for Max to take, which she does. "There actually _is_ a party?!"

"You mean you didn't plan this?"

"No!" Victoria says.

"Nah, Super Max, she was too busy tryna decide what to buy for you. Apparently she decided on a _different_ kind of present."

Chloe.

Max turns to face her, her face redder than before, but she smiles. "Chloe!" she says, slightly breathless from the fall (but totally not just from the fall). She scans the faces around her and with every name her voice grows more high-pitched, her face more red – "Dana, Alyssa, Warren, Brooke, Kate! Taylor and Courtney! You're all here?"

"And we all have ears, Maxine." Taylor says. "Really, I didn't picture you to be one to get down and dirty in the hallway."

Victoria pulls Max close again, scowls at Taylor. "You specifically told me there would be no party."

"Yeah, I lied." Taylor shrugs.

Dana, next to her, squeals and pulls Max in for a hug. "You're nineteen, Max!" she says, her arms snaked around Max's neck, their bodies pressed together tightly. "How do you feel?"

Chloe laughs. "Bet she feels a little horny, to be honest!"

Max splutters when Dana pulls away. She feels the need to hit Chloe, but Dana does it for her. Lightly - like she deserves. "I'm more shocked, actually, but I think landing butt first on the floor will do that to you."

Brooke takes a step forward. "Are you alright, Max?"

Max nods, smiles. "I'm fine. Thanks, Brooke."

"Are you sure? I'm sure Doctor Warren here wouldn't mind taking a look at you."

Chloe snorts. "Totally. He'll take as many looks as he can, the perv."

Warren rubs at the back of his head. "I'm not a doctor –" he says, embarrassed. "And – and Victoria sorta looks like she wants to kill me so I'll be over here with the presents."

He takes two cautious steps to the side where Max's presents are laid out on the bed.

Victoria takes a protective step forward. "Why did no one tell me about the party? I could've used the warning! I was planning to –"

"Oh, we know what you were planning, lover girl." Dana giggles. Max blushes. Victoria blushes. Kate blushes. Even Warren blushes.

Alyssa, thankfully, saves the day. "I'm sorry I couldn't warn you about the fall, Max. I owe you for all those times you've stopped me being hit with projectiles."

"Don't mention it, Alyssa. I'm glad that you came."

"Wouldn't miss it, Max. When Chloe invited me last week I was surprised – "

"Hell _no,"_ Victoria interjects. "I was with you all of damn yesterday, and you didn't think to tell me about this little gathering you planned?" she points an accusing finger at Chloe, who laughs and pushes it aside like it was nothing.

"Calm down, Queen Bitch. I'm just here to celebrate the birth of good ol' Maximus Prime."

"I'll give you something to celebrate, you hippy –"

"Max!" Kate says, drawing her attention away from the brewing fight. Kate looks a little flustered. The idea that she heard what Max and Victoria were doing is mortifying – but it's not like little Kate would pull a bible from behind her back and reprimand them for sinning. Or at least not _seriously._

"Kate!" Max replies. The two share a tender hug. "I'm so happy you could be here for my birthday; thanks for coming!"

"Well," Kate links her hands and looks to the floor, a blush coats her cute little cheeks. "your friend Chloe is very persuasive. It was hard to say no."

Max's eyebrows raise without her consent. She looks between Chloe and Kate – Chloe and Victoria are glaring at one another but Max knows it isn't serious, and Courtney stands between them, keeping Victoria at bay whilst Taylor just stands and laughs next to her. Chloe points a daring finger at Victoria, says something inappropriate no doubt, Max doesn't really hear, and Victoria gives her the finger in return. Max can't help herself smiling.

"Chloe? Persuasive?" she says, turning back to Kate, who goes a shade darker.

"Yes." Kate replies, before aptly changing the subject. "I hope you like my present. It's an original signed copy of The October Country, since you said you liked it so much."

"Wow, thanks, Kate! That's so generous of you."

"It's not a big deal, Max, you've been so kind to me since you got here –"

"No, Max loves _me_ more and you know it!" Chloe yells, but she's concealing a smug grin and is clearly saying it just to provoke a reaction from Victoria.

"I don't know," Taylor chimes. "Victoria is the one who gives her the orgasms –"

"Says who?" Chloe quick-wittedly replies, staring into Victoria's eyes.

Victoria practically growls.

"Wow, wow _, wow!_ Guys!" Max says. She grabs Victoria's hand in one of her own, and Chloe's in another. "Enough bonding, okay, there's only so much of that I can take."

"That _all_ of us can take." Warren corrects. "I've been head-butted twice in my life and I don't fancy facing off against an angry Victoria."

"I wouldn't head-butt you, nerd." She retorts, but, sulking, listens to Max and zips her lips quiet.

"Well, now that that's out of the way, Maximus, let's get this party started! I brought booze!" Chloe hops over to Max's sound system and hits play, loud music immediately pulses through the room. She grabs Dana's arm and twirls her around, provoking a laugh from the girl. "Dance, monkeys dance!"

Max laughs at them all, Victoria at her side. They all look like they're having fun, even in Max's tiny room. Kate is smiling, sipping water from a red little cup. Chloe throws everyone else a beer, and slowly the pace picks itself up.

Eventually, Taylor and Courtney are dancing with each other, hands waving madly in their air. Courtney offers Max a wave and a smile, and Max smiles right back. Dana dances next to them with Brooke, and together the two of them manage to pull up a reluctant Warren and get him to bust a move like he just doesn't care – so, in other words, _terribly_. Alyssa and Kate sit side by side on the sofa, but Max watches, intrigued, as Chloe saunters over and offers her hand with a charming smile to Kate who, with a blush, accepts it.

About half an hour in, everyone is dancing with everyone. And in the chaos Victoria sneaks Max away.

"I wanted to do this in private." She says as she carefully closes the door to Max's room and pulls her across the hall to her own. They enter, and Victoria picks a wrapped present off of her desk. Max presumes it's for her. "I didn't know there was going to be a party so it hindered it a little, but whatever."

Max smiles. "You didn't have to get me anything." She says, cliché as she is, and takes a step closer to her girlfriend.

"I know." Victoria replies. They look at each other for a moment, indulged in the silence. It is Victoria that breaks it with a thrust of her hand and a small: "Here." she looks at Max shyly and holds out a present that's adorned in sparkly silver wrapping paper and a purple bow. Her eyes look into Max's, worried and trying to hide it, so Max isn't surprised when Tori blushes and looks away. "It's nothing special. I – I'll admit that I found it a little difficult to find something to get for you. Everything I chose Chloe told me was too expensive, or flashy, or that you couldn't drive yet –

Max smiles cheekily at Victoria. Her heart feels warm, she can't believe Victoria and Chloe actually worked together to get Max a present. It takes a moment for Victoria's words to actually sink in, but when they do…

"What?!" Max looks at Victoria with disbelief etched onto her face, her smile changing quickly into amusement and then astonishment – "you were going to get me a _car?"_

"Well Chloe said a week in Rome was too excessive!"

Max stares at her girlfriend for a moment. Her blushing, shy, embarrassed girlfriend who is looking anywhere but Max, with her arms crossed in nervous defiance as her fingers anxiously rub at her arm. She's pouting. It's adorable.

Max bursts out laughing.

"A trip to _Rome_? Oh, man, Victoria, I can't believe you'd actually do that –"

"Well, it's one of the most culturally immersive places in the world, and beautiful for photography." She says. Her voice is small but brimming with confidence, and her cute brown eyes finally meet Max's. "I thought it'd be beautiful to go there together and take pictures. I thought you'd – I mean I thought you'd like it."

Victoria looks embarrassed. A little upset. She's still blushing – Max has never known her to blush for so long – and she drops her arm holding the present down by her side. Max immediately feels guilty for laughing. Victoria had clearly tried really hard to find a good present for Max and all Max is doing is laughing at her. The single thought sobers Max immediately. Her smile becomes small, sheepish, and she grabs at the hand holding Victoria's present. Squeezes it.

"Hey," Max says, shuffling forward slightly and using her free hand to gently hold Victoria's chin, force their eyes to join. "I would absolutely love that, Tori, you know I would. But we haven't been together that long and I would hate for you to waste your money on me like that."

Victoria huffs out a breath through her nose. It hits Max's hand, makes her smile grow wider. "That's what Chloe said. But it's just money, not even a quarter of my monthly allowance –"

"I know that, Vic, but it's a lot more money for me than it is you. And one day you might really need it. But please don't let that upset you, it's _so_ thoughtful - to think that you care enough to take me to Rome is just amazing, Victoria."

Victoria takes a small step forward. Max watches her try to fight the small little smile off of her pink lips, rather unsuccessfully, and then she lifts the present in her hand, holds it in the small space between them, whispers as if they're sharing a secret: "Open it."

Max looks down to the present between them. It's a large square shape, but one of the dimensions is taller than the other, so a bit rectangular, and about two inches thick. Max stares down it, unable to conceal her excitement. She takes the present from her girlfriend who is smiling at her nervously, and, carefully, Max pulls the ribbon off of the wrapping paper and then pulls at the sellotape one end of the wrapping. Victoria's wrapped it very well and obviously with care, Max would hate to ruin her hard work even if she's anxious to see what's inside.

She pulls one side up, reaches inside…

Feels a smooth texture, soft to run her fingers along but also a little cold. Max pulls it out.

It's a large leather book with a loose strap around it to keep it closed, and at the binding there is a small patterned engraving, intricate by any means. On the front, engraved carefully into the leather, are the words 'Max and Victoria'.

Max looks up, stares at a nervous Victoria with a curious look in her eyes, and then looks back down to the book. She opens it to the first page.

"Well, you write in that journal all the time and put your own pictures in it that you take and I thought – well, I thought it would be nice – if the two of us, together, wrote about our experiences together."

Max stares down at the page, runs her finger along it. It feels like _real_ paper, paper that is slightly rough to the touch but is so soft and easy to write on. The first page already has pictures on it – Victoria and Max's first selfie together is the first one. Max is looking at the camera, smiling, and Victoria, with an arm around her, is doing an overzealous pout. It was taken in Victoria's room, laid on her bed. Max had been holding the camera and the shot was a little tilted because the two of them kept laughing as they tried to be serious and take the shot. It was a cute picture, brought back the memory as clear as day. They weren't even dating in this picture. They'd just…gotten closer. Become good friends.

Victoria had kissed her the very next day.

"It's wonderful," Max says, smiling like a kid on Christmas day, she looks at the other pictures in the book, carefully turning page after page of their pictures together until it runs blank.

"It's for our future memories." Victoria says. She blushes, squirms a little where she stands. "I figured that when I take you to Rome, one day, we're going to want to document it. I'm certainly going to want to capture your doe-eyed look when you see the Colosseum for the first time –"

"Tori," Max says, closing the book and pulling her close. "It's perfect. Don't sell yourself short. I don't need a trip to Rome; this is far more thoughtful. It's amazing. You really thought about this."

"Well, yeah," Victoria says, "I wanted it to be the best present ever."

"And you managed it." Max smiles gently at her. She picks up Vic's digital camera from the desk and pulls her close, holding the book up and beaming at the camera. "Smile, dork," Max says, "It's time to make some memories."

Victoria smiles but Max can see the playful annoyance in her eyes at the nickname. "You're the hipster here, not me." She says, but she only pulls Max closer.

"I don't know, Chase." Max replies, "I saw that you put in the picture of me catching you with your first polaroid. You're just as big of a dork as me."

Victoria grumbles.

Max takes the shot.

Later, when they stick it in their new book together, Victoria will write 'Max's nineteenth' beneath it, in her small, curly writing. And Max will see the happy look that adorns Victoria's face.


	23. Taylor's Christening

**#23: Taylor's Christening -** Max gets dominant sometimes; she knows Victoria enjoys risk. So she decides to be spontaneous. She'll later pretend she didn't know Taylor was due to come round, but they both know that's a lie. AKA the one where Victoria is fucked against her door and Taylor tries to come in.

I guess you could say I was in a mood to write porn. Well - I most certainly was, so I whipped this up real quick. Hope you guys like it. Also, follow me on tumblr if you fancy it: life-is-chasefield (i can't post a link, sorry!)

Ultimately I wanted something cute and hot and this was born. Hope I've achieved at least one of those for you. :)

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" _Fuck, Max,_ don't do this-"

The words come out in a breathless blur as Victoria is pushed hard against the door. Max grabs roughly at her skirt, rips down the zip as if it burns her and slides Tori's skirt and underwear off in one smooth motion. She presses their mouths together viciously, claws at Victoria's top like it's on fire, flicks her tongue out along Victoria's bottom lip and bites when she refuses entry – and Max takes her, takes all of her, and Victoria moans and grabs at her like she never wants their bodies to part but pulls back just long enough to act like she doesn't want this -

"T- Taylor's going to be here any –"

But Max forces their lips together again to shut her up, and Victoria can only moan again when the cold wood of the door presses against the skin of her back; when Max, hard and warm against her, interlocks their bodies and tears at Victoria' expensive lace bra and throws it onto the floor like it is nothing - because it just feels so _damn good_ to have Max flushed against her like she's insatiable, _animalistic,_ and with a reluctance matched only by her singeing _want_ for this – Victoria wants, _begs,_ for this side of Max: for the side that takes her and fucks her and _uses her_ until Victoria can't stand up –

" _Fuck_ –"

Until she is nothing but a quivering mess beneath Max - until she is not the Queen of Blackwell or the _Victoria Fucking Chase –_ just a girl utterly _fucked_ until she is nothing and Max is everything - the dominant _and_ the demanding – and Victoria is _powerless_ to stop herself from succumbing to another orgasm –

And then there is a knock at Victoria's door, and Victoria is flushed, head pressed back hard against the wood, and Max is grinning evilly at her and sliding down Victoria's naked body with a gentle kiss on her breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs and then – _oh._

And Max's tongue is against her and circling her clit so aggressively Victoria thinks she'll come right there and Taylor knocks again –

"Victoria?" its muffled but loud and it's all Victoria can do not to press down on the handle of the door and alert Taylor because she _doesn't want that at all_ but Taylor is there and listening and might be able to hear –

And Victoria moans again, presses a hand roughly against her mouth to muffle the sound and Max pulls away long enough just smirk at her like she knows exactly what she's doing to Victoria. Quickly Max thrusts two fingers so deep inside Victoria she can hear the _sinful_ noises of how wet she is and _fuck no_ Max is taking her and taking her and taking her so _hard_ and her door doesn't have a lock and _no, no no –_

"Talk to her." Max demands, "Or I'll stop." the forceful tone in her voice has Victoria's hips bucking and her mind buzzing, and some part of her really wants to yell at Max, to tell her that she can't tell Victoria what to do, but another part of her is so desperate for her that pathetically Victoria can't say any of it -

"I – I _can't."_ Victoria hisses in reply, quietly but not at all quietly and then –

"Victoria?" Something about the way Taylor says her name is silky and enticing and Tori can't help picturing Taylor's tongue running down her body. Max's mouth is back on her clit and she still knuckle deep in her and Victoria can't take any of it and _shit, no, no, she can't talk to Taylor_

"Yes?" Victoria manages, a desperate breath that has her chest heaving and Max smiling against her and Taylor worried –

"Are you okay? I thought we were going to watch some of that weird cartoon you like?"

And Victoria groans when Max hits curls her fingers _just right –_

And Taylor must hear her and it makes this all the more dangerous and risky and Victoria's head swirls with arousal and it's _so bad but she can't help it._ "Sorry, sorry – _anime._ " Taylor corrects. "No need to moan about it."

"No –I'm – _ah –_ I'm so _fucking – sorry_ Taylor but I'm not feeling very well –"

Victoria's knows her face is boiling red. She is mortified, talking to her friend whilst Max, hipster freak, is so deep inside her Victoria is seeing stars but it turns her on so much, this humiliation - Max snakes her spare hand up Tori's body and grabs tightly at one of her breasts, pinches at the nipple and relishes in the squeak Tori gives her in reply and she does it again, harder and Victoria's suddenly flushing white hot –

"Are you okay?"

"Fine!" Victoria replies, winded and panicked, legs shaking beneath her – "I just need to –to rain check –"

And then Max turns less polite. She thrusts harder and deeper into Victoria and Tori thinks she's never been fucked so hard before, and Victoria can't help the slight banging, the shaking of the door and can't stop the noise of it and she's clenching so tightly around Max she think she might die and she can't help that she loves it all so much, to feel Max in her, to know Taylor might hear some of this –

"You don't sound fine, Vic. You need some help?"

" _No!"_ it's panicked and loud and squeaky and breathless and Victoria is sweating and crumbling against the door and she can't stand up anymore and suddenly the door is opening –

And Victoria slams her naked back hard against it to shut it again before she loses her balance, before Taylor sees them and sees Victoria naked and sweating and- "What the fuck, Victoria? What's wrong?"

And Victoria can only reply with an exasperated, breathless " _Nothing!"_

Max redoubles her efforts and Victoria didn't think it was possible to have her clit so positively _throbbing_ and Victoria is almost sobbing she's so close -

" _Don't stop_ –" she finally says loudly: a whine, a cry, a give-away to Taylor but she doesn't care so long as Max doesn't _fucking stop -_

But now Taylor is silent on the other side of the door.

Victoria is suddenly horrified and her face is heating so violently she thinks she will pass out and Max is still fucking her and the only noise she can even hear anymore is how Max pounds her against the door and the beautiful squelching of Max's fingers in her – and Taylor _still_ isn't saying anything but Victoria's clit is throbbing so _desperately_ and Max is still fucking her and her body is still so hot and Victoria _hates_ Max for doing this to her and yet she bucks against Max's fingers as if they're going to stop.

She comes all at once – it washes against her like violent ocean waves and she can't help but cry out when she comes and Max's tongue is still against her and her fingers are slowing and Taylor is silent –

"Oh _fuuuck_ –" Tori breathes, her heart pounding, her legs shaking, her face boiling. Taylor can hear her. She knows Taylor can hear her. "Fuck – fuck – _fuck_ -!"

Victoria lets it go all at once, and then she collapses against the door. She breathes heavily for a while and tries to slow her erratic heartbeat but it is too much, and she is sliding down the door and she can feel the sweat on her back –

Max pulls away from her and, with a shit-eating grin, puts her fingers into her mouth and sucks on them like she hasn't eaten in a week and Victoria can only stare, still too breathless, still too turned on, and then she remembers Taylor –

And she is blushing furiously again and she can't speak and then the silence is back, suffocating and broken and then out of it a voice speaks –

"I think I should go." It is Taylor.

Victoria can do nothing but bury her head in her arms in her shame.

"It was nice talking, Taylor." Max says cheekily, still smiling, on the other side of the door.

"… urgh, sure, Max."

And Victoria glares at the brunette in front of her. Her eyes are blue and shining and her pupils are wide and then she kisses Victoria again, and nothing seems to matter to Tori but her lips, and everything is melting away again until Victoria is nothing but Max's again – until she has succumb, as she always would, to the touch of her girlfriend.

They whisper 'I love yous' when it's over, but eventually Victoria has her sense back and she smacks her girlfriend lightly on the leg, and tells Max to go fuck herself for what she pulled, and Max will only smile and giggle again -

And neither of them would have it any other way.

Except maybe for Taylor.


End file.
